


What If: Aang never froze in the iceberg?

by Ryuukashi



Series: Avatar AU [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, I'll add more when I get there, Implied Violence Against Children, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Iroh Adopts Zuko (Avatar), POV Animal Abuse, POV Zuko (Avatar), PTSD, Past Child Abuse, Protective Aang (Avatar), Protective Iroh (Avatar), That's it for characters so far, The rest is just atla, Zuko (Avatar) Gets Therapy, Zuko (Avatar) Needs Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 45
Words: 161,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuukashi/pseuds/Ryuukashi
Summary: Zuko is sixteen, scarred, and hunting the Avatar to restore his honor. He finds him in the South Pole, and the Avatar is exactly the old, powerful, master-of-all-elements Avatar that Zuko expected. Except it's still Aang.The episodes are getting more in-depth, so I am splitting them up to keep a decent length and semi-regular schedule for updates. The holidays might slow me down a little, but I am so excited to see where this goes.
Series: Avatar AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926688
Comments: 145
Kudos: 180





	1. The Avatar Returns

**Author's Note:**

> This is as close to unedited as I am comfortable putting online, so constructive criticism is okay, but please be nice! I love comments of every kind!

It was cold. Zuko had been so cold for so many months now. It had been three years since he last went home, and now all he saw was this spiritforsaken frozen ocean. He wanted to go home. He just had to find the Avatar. Then Father would accept him back. This was just a test for the Crown Prince, that was it. That had to be it. Father was testing him, making sure he was ready to become Fire Lord.

But when would his destiny finally find him? Surely all he had to do was wait. He was to be Fire Lord. Nothing else made sense. He just had to keep going. But man, was it cold.

His uncle interrupted his thoughts. “Prince Zuko, it is time for your training.” The doddering old fool. He had barely made it up the stairs to the balcony. Was he winded? Yeah, Zuko thought his breathing might be a bit irregular. Why did he ever listen to this buffoon?

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Zuko sneered, stretching the scar on his left eye painfully, and watched with satisfaction as the old man bowed deeply and retreated. Training, he thought. As if there were anything the Crown Prince couldn’t do. He’d been training every day since he left home. Surely even Azula couldn’t beat him now.

But still, it was a Crown Prince’s duty to always learn, and to respect his elders. Even if he would one day replace them. So he waited until Uncle Iroh’s pondering steps had receded down the hallway, then turned toward the door to follow him.

After three hours of running the same basic form, Zuko was ready to learn the next one. He had done it perfectly these last few times, every muscle flowing into the next and creating just the right amount of fire. But picky fool that he was, Uncle Iroh kept insisting he run the form again. His scar ached. “Enough! I’m ready for the next form.”

Uncle Iroh looked sad. “No, you have not yet mastered the basics. Do it again.”

Zuko gritted his teeth. “I have mastered the basics. We’ve been drilling this form for hours. If I’m going to fight the Avatar, I’ll need more advanced bending forms!”

“You are not ready,” his uncle insisted. Zuko raged. He growled and did the form right in front of the fool, singing the edges of his robes. Then he shoved the insubordinate fool to the side and stormed inside to the beat of his throbbing eye.

Once he had cleaned up and dressed, Zuko resumed staring at the ocean from his balcony. He knew they would be coming up on an old shipwreck from the Fire Navy Fleet soon, and wanted to scavenge it for fuel and weapons. He took his spyglass from its slot on the handrail and clicked it open.

With the spyglass to his good eye, he could just make out the rusted ship through the haze. He watched as the movement of his ship slowly revealed the tattered Fire Nation flag, still flying high after over a decade of isolation. The ship, and not a single crewman, had been the only casualty of the last raid on the Southern Water Tribe. The Southern waterbenders were officially extinct because of this ship. Pride swelled in Zuko’s heart.

He was surprised to see movement on the snow, and watched a small figure approach the base of the ship on foot. The person was clearly young, maybe even younger than him, and seemed hesitant about going inside the vessel. But sure enough, they stepped through a visible crack in the hull and disappeared.

Zuko watched intently for a few minutes, his ship growing ever closer to the old relic, but eventually gave up. He lowered his spyglass and winced as he opened his bad eye and stretched the fresh scar. Suddenly, a flash of light and the whistle of a flare snapped his attention back to the shipwreck. The child had triggered a trap! He sprinted from the room to find Uncle Iroh.

“Uncle! Where are you, old man?” He raced through the hallways to the bridge, where he spotted his uncle and the helmsman in light conversation. “Uncle,” he rasped breathlessly, “we have to get to that shipwreck. I saw a child trigger one of the defensive traps.”

His uncle raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but did not question him. “We are already on a heading to pass quite close, Prince Zuko. What would you have us do for the child?”

“Well, t-they could be injured, or trapped by the trap. Shouldn’t we… help?” He hated how his voice trailed off at the end, but he truly wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. He had only felt some desire to do something when the flare had fired.

Iroh bowed deeply. “Of course, Prince Zuko.” For a moment, Zuko almost thought he saw a hint of a smile on his bumbling uncle’s face. “Helmsman, slow us down when we approach the shipwreck. The Prince desires a tour of the historical relic.”

The helmsman nodded curtly, and Zuko nodded back before storming from the bridge. He needed to be more forceful if he was ever going to impress Father and earn his place as Fire Lord. He took his spyglass back to his balcony and watched the warship closely as they approached.

Quickly, he saw someone exit the high bridge of the ship. Had he missed something while he had been off demanding the helmsman change course? He must have. This was an adult, with a child in their arms. Where were they going? There was no way off the bridge except through the interior door. Zuko watched in horror as the adult climbed up onto the handrail of the bridge, and then shock as they jumped off into open air.

But they did not fall. The pair of forms seemed to float and twirl like a leaf, landing softly on the snow well clear of the ship’s hull. Airbender. There was no other explanation. And since all the Airbenders were dead… Zuko followed the pair with his spyglass to see where they were going, and spotted the Water Tribe settlement. It must have been the very last one. Not many people escaped the raids.

“Get my uncle!” cried Zuko to anyone who could hear him. "Tell him I've found the Avatar." Zuko stood staring at the tiny Water Tribe village, and his heart soared. His father would accept him back for sure now. No one thought he could do it, even Uncle Iroh, but there he was. The Airbender! Why wouldn't the helmsman speed up?!

It took another hour to reach the spit of land he had seen in the spyglass. The village was pitiful. A few igloos cobbled together and undefended. The ship's hull crashed through the wall like it was nothing. As Zuko descended the ramp, a young boy of maybe 15 years charged him with a whalebone spear. He quickly disarmed him and sent him sprawling into the snowdrifts. Who was this boy to think he could take on the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation with a whalebone spear? Zuko's feet touched snow, and the boy charged again, this time with a club. Zuko beat him with it and pushed him back into the gathered throng of Water Tribe peasants. "Where is the Avatar?" he asked in his most regal voice, glaring at the assembled enemies.

Stifled gasps met his ears, and for a moment, nothing moved. Then, slowly, the crowd parted to allow a tall figure through. He was old, maybe 70 by Zuko's best guess, and wore Water Tribe clothes, but no parka. His voice was deep, smooth, and commanding. "So the time has come at last."

Zuko stared at the newcomer. "The time for what? Where is the Airbender?" He took two forceful steps forward to intimidate this peasant.

But the peasant didn't move. "You poor, lonely child," he said with an infuriating amount of compassion. The stranger stood tall, raising his hands forward, hands with arrow tattoos. There was a feeling that came over Zuko, like he was completely insignificant, an ant before a tsunami, and the stranger's tattoos began to glow. And the stranger's feet came off the ground. And quite suddenly, the very ground beneath Zuko's feet was moving, shifting, encasing him and all his soldiers in ice. He whipped his head around to see his ship, to see Uncle Iroh standing motionless on the deck, he and the ship both immobilized by creeping ice.

He turned and sent a furious barrage of fire punches at the Waterbender. That would show him. But the flames turned upward and dissipated in the empty air above their heads. This really was him, then. "I've actually found you," he crowed and laughed, tugging at his feet to get them out of the ice and charge his new captive. But they didn't move. He sent his strongest fire punches at the icy manacles, but they didn't melt. "I don't understand..."

The Avatar caught his attention again, standing calmly on the snow with that same, sickening compassion on his stupid face. "It's okay, child, I am not going to hurt you." He stepped forward, and Zuko felt a fluttering in his chest and the inexplicable desire to run as fast and as far as he could. For half a second, he thought he saw his father standing over him again, curling his hand into a fist, saying "pain shall be your teacher..."

He flinched, but what struck him was not his father's flames. Instead, a soft hand traced the edges of his raw scar. "You have already seen so much suffering. Let me help you." There was a tingling sensation of cold water against Zuko's face. The dull ache that had plagued him since his banishment began to fade. "I am sorry I cannot remove the scar, but I can help it heal so it doesn't hurt you anymore."

Zuko was beside himself. He had never been treated this way. How was he supposed to react? What was he supposed to do? The ice around his feet flowed into water and seeped down into the snow, and he collapsed to his knees, touching the familiar bumps and wrinkles around his eye. He still couldn't see well on that side, but by the dragons it didn't hurt anymore! "Who... why...?"

"I am Aang. It's good to meet you. What is your name?"

He wanted to tell this man that he had been sent to capture him, that the man was a prisoner now, that he would be Zuko’s ticket back home to fame and glory and honor. But all the bravado he wanted to summon was gone, drained from his limbs like sap from a burned tree. “I… I am Zuko,” he stuttered. Stupid! He should have said Crown Prince Zuko.

The old Airbender smiled softly. “Hello, Zuko.” He offered a strong, tattooed hand to help Zuko up. “I just have one question for you.” Zuko took the hand and looked at the wizened face, the arrow on his forehead that trailed back into a mop of long, grey hair, and the mischievous sparkle he had only seen before when Uncle Iroh was about to beat someone in Pai Sho. “Will you go penguin sledding with me?”

Zuko stared, dumbstruck. “Excuse me, what?” This was the legendary warrior, the only force more powerful than the Fire Nation, the Avatar, and he’d said what?!

“Have you ever been penguin sledding, Zuko? It’s really great fun.” Aang smiled wide, and gratefully took a few of the many fish immediately offered by the Water Tribe villagers. He handed them to the young girl beside him, who placed them in her basket with practiced ease.

One of the soldiers behind Zuko spoke up. “Prince Zuko, what should we do?”

The Prince looked over his shoulder at his soldiers, his ship, and his uncle, all still encased in unbreaking ice, some of them trying to chip away the ice with weapons, others trying to melt it with firebending, and his uncle just staring in bewilderment at the old Avatar. The fool. But what could he do? He had to find a way to get this Avatar back to the Fire Nation. Nothing after that mattered. So how could he accomplish it?

Zuko made up his mind. “Get on the ship and go,” he ordered. Aang had already proven he could destroy the ship and everyone on it with a breath; there was no point fighting him. Zuko would have to trick him.

The soldiers all exclaimed, and Zuko had to yell over a chorus of What-do-you-means and What-are-you-doings to be heard. “Go back to the Fire Nation!” More quietly to the soldier nearest him, he added in a whisper “Tell my father I have found the Avatar and I will be home soon.” He caught a stunned glance from his uncle before turning back to face the Avatar.

Aang stared pointedly at Zuko. “Prince, huh?” His voice was stiff, and the forced calmness sent a shiver down Zuko’s spine. “Prince Zuko.” And again, Zuko saw his father before him, chastising him, correcting him, instructing him, always with that forced calm in his voice. The Avatar broke the spell by sighing and smiling, dropping his forehead into his hand for a moment. “Guess we can’t go penguin sledding, then, can we?” Aang pointed a playful finger at the banished Prince. “You will probably want to have me on my way to the Throne Room momentarily.” He waved a hand toward the ice-encrusted ship, and the ice fell away into the sea. “Your Prince told you to go,” he said, and without shouting, his powerful voice carried to every last soldier. They scrambled to obey him and raise the ramp.

Zuko turned away. His choice was made, and his destiny lay before him. He would bring this old Avatar to his father. It was the only thing that could happen. And then he would pass the test, and he would be welcome again at his father’s side. A shuffling of snow behind him made him turn back around in a huff, ready to berate the soldier that had disobeyed him, but he found his doddering uncle, holding two small sacks over one shoulder. Zuko rolled his eyes and didn’t have to fight back pain. “Uncle, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you, of course,” Iroh said easily. “It is always best to have friends along for adventures. And family’s not a bad choice either!” He elbowed Zuko in the side with a grin, and the Prince rolled his eyes harder than before. Their ship scraped against ice as it slid backward out of the village wall and back into the sea.

“Well, then,” said Aang with a clap of his hands, “we will need to pack some things as well before we all go.” He whistled louder than should have been possible, a piercing note that echoed from the towering icebergs strewn about the tundra.

Zuko paused. We? And then he scrambled back a few steps as an enormous furry creature came flying out from behind one of the icebergs. It had a thick, mounded tail, six stocky legs, two shiny horns, shaggy fur over its eyes, and showed a solid row of square teeth when it bellowed and sent Zuko back to his knees in the snow.

Uncle Iroh whispered in awe. “A Sky Bison!”

Aang called with joy. “Nini!” He leapt at the beast before it had even landed, and did a twist in the air to boost himself high enough to land softly on the beast’s forehead. “I’m glad you were close. We’re taking the family on a trip. And we’re bringing friends!”

The bison Nini landed heavily in the snow and sniffed first Zuko then his uncle, and licked Iroh with a tongue as big as the ponderous old man. Aang laughed and said “That settles it then. Katara, can you run and gather some things for the trip? Sokka, please bring the young kids here before we go.”

The young girl who had taken the fish donations and the boy who had charged Zuko with whalebone weapons - Really? - each nodded With a wide grin and jogged off in different directions. Aang looked at Iroh and laughed. “No, my friend, they are not mine. I just look after them when I can, which has been a lot lately, and they have always wanted to come away with me.”

Sokka came running back first, followed by a gaggle of children, most under age 6 if Zuko guessed right. The Water Tribe teen was still grinning. “All present and accounted for, Aang.”

“Wow,” Aang replied, “that was fast. Good job, Sokka, thanks.” He looked at the group of kids before him. “Sokka, Katara, and I are going on a trip…” He was interrupted by a chorus of moans and protestations. “Now, now, settle down, we’ll come back, I promise.” He waited for them to settle down again. “Make sure to listen to your parents and elders, and especially Gran Gran Kana, okay?” The agreements were sparse and unconvincing. “I said, okay??” He got more enthusiasm the second time, and nodded. “Good. I expect all of you to be Waterbenders when I get back.” Another chorus of disagreement, this time mixed with laughter. “What’s that? That’s not how bending works? Wouldn’t I know that?” He made a grand gesture of putting his hand to his chin and stroking his beard. “Well, then I expect all of you to be on your way to being master hunters! Better?” The kids each scrambled to sound the most excited. “Good. You’re dismissed.” And the throng of children scattered.

Katara was standing behind the kids when they were released, and held the bags up out of the way of their jubilant retreat. “Clothes and bedrolls, and waterskins. Everything else we can find on our way.”

“Excellent planning, Katara, you are absolutely right. The less weight we put on Nini, the farther and faster she can go without needing to rest.” Aang smiled. “I do think a few dry rations like bread or jerky might come in handy over long ocean flights. Do you know where the extras are stored?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “I’ll go grab some!” And with a smile, she ran off.

Zuko just stared. All this was getting a little out of hand. It was supposed to just be him and the Avatar, going to the Fire Nation. Now, it was him, his uncle, Aang, Aang’s pseudo-adopted kids, and an eight-ton Flying Bison. It would be a lot harder to trick them all. But if this was his destiny, then it would all work out in the end. He just had to keep pushing forward. Resigned to the long game, he snatched his pack from his uncle and smiled awkwardly at his greatest nemesis as he took the man’s hand and accepted his help climbing up to Nini’s saddle. He glared at the Avatar while his back was turned to see the returning Katara. His eye didn’t hurt.


	2. The Southern Air Temple

“I hate to sound ungrateful, Avatar Aang,” said the once-great General Iroh, “but we appear to be travelling almost due North, instead of Northwest toward the Fire Nation. Where might you be taking us?”

Zuko locked his eyes on his uncle for a moment. Maybe this old man did have some uses. Zuko would not have known their heading by just the wide open ocean view they had seen yesterday, or by the repetitive tall mountains of the Southern Archipelago today. 

He saw Aang turn an astute gaze on the old man, too. “Well, General Iroh, I couldn’t very well bring Sokka and Katara out to see the sights without stopping by my childhood home, now could I?” His face held the tiniest of smirks. “We’ll be stopping by the Southern Air Temple. You might find you enjoy the view.”

Iroh’s face froze in the placating smile he had adopted to broach the subject, but his eyes darted around, not seeing anything outside his thoughts. Zuko kicked his uncle’s foot and said “What? So we’re going to an abandoned, decrepit old temple-” Iroh’s withering stare stopped the Prince from going any further. What was his problem? It really was just an old, decrepit, probably crumbling temple. The old man was freaking out over nothing.

After another hour of flying in silence, the bison rounded one of the tall mountain spires and they all saw the Southern Air Temple. It was in better shape than he expected. From this distance, Zuko could tell that all the tall towers were still standing, the large courtyards were free of weeds, and a flock of lemurbats were roosting in the trees near the front entryway. As they got closer, he saw that snow had been cleared away from main walkways, but more snow had fallen and had not been removed recently. There were no trails of footprints, or evidence of habitation. It looked like Avatar Aang had kept the place clean, but only when he happened to stop by.

Their Flying Bison landed in the main courtyard, and her tail sent snow flying away from the temple. Aang leapt from her head and began airbending the snow, clearing the path for the rest of them. Wide circular arm motions flung the snow first one direction then the other, in time with the last Airbender’s steps toward the door of his home. Clouds of snowflakes settled in soft mounds at the edges of the walkways, giving the whole place a glittering beauty in the noontime sun.

Iroh held Zuko back as Sokka and Katara grabbed their packs and climbed down Nini’s side. Once the Water Tribe peasants were far enough away to be out of earshot, Iroh hissed “Be very cautious what you say while we are here.” He dragged the Prince around to look him in the eyes. “This place belongs to him, and is his alone. We have no right to be here.”

Zuko ripped his arm away from his deranged uncle. “He is our prisoner. I will not tiptoe around the place of his defeat to spare his feelings.” He grabbed his bag and jumped down from the bison’s saddle, hitting the ground hard and wincing as his feet and ankles protested. He followed Sokka and Katara down the path the Airbender was clearing, and scoffed at their constant exclamations of awe at every new thing from Lychee trees to the unearthly howling the building’s tall spires produced when the wind picked up.

Aang continued his stately walk inside the building, blowing dust and cobwebs from the corridors and shaking loose the grime that had built up in the drapes and tapestries over the years. “In the years before the War, these hallways were filled with singing and conversations, and you could always hear the kids playing airball or harassing the lemurs outside.” He was smiling over his shoulder, but something in his voice made a chill crawl up Zuko’s spine. Iroh tread softly at the tail of the group and made no sound.

The hallway curved gently around the outside wall of the temple, and light shone in through open windows at regular intervals. Lemurs and small birds with bright colors flew in and out totally at random. Their calls and cries echoed through the maze of passageways. Aang pointed to a doorway as he stepped past it and said “Sokka, Katara, this one is for you.”

“Aww, one room for both of us? But,” Sokka protested, “I haven’t shared a room with Katara in eight years!” He motioned to the next room and smiled wide. “Can I have that one?”

Aang chuckled softly, and with a mischievous glitter in his eye, nodded. Sokka whooped and took his bag into the second room, and Katara rolled her eyes.

Zuko glanced at the rooms as he passed and scoffed. Loud enough for Aang to hear him clearly, he said “I hope our accommodations are more comfortable than this. Stone beds and wood chairs are no fit amenities for royalty.” There was no change in the Airbender’s walk or arm motions, but his back stood straighter and his head moved less, and Zuko knew that what he had said had reached his target. Those were the same telltale signs of concealed surprise and anger he had learned to avoid at all costs when walking behind the Fire Lord. Aang did not speak any more.

Farther up the passageway, where the wind was faster through the windows and the curve of the wall was tighter, Aang silently motioned to an open doorway. Iroh jumped in before Zuko could speak and said “We appreciate your hospitality, Avatar Aang. This room will be quite comfortable for both of us.” Zuko glared at his uncle, but the old man took his arm in a vice-like grip and would not let go. He dragged Zuko into the small chamber and pulled the drapes across the door, throwing the whole room into near-perfect darkness. He waited for quite a while, jostling Zuko’s arm each time the Crown Prince tried to move or make a sound, until eventually even the sound of Aang’s airbending faded into the sounds of the wind from outside. A moment later, a tiny spark of flame illuminated the room from Iroh’s palm and the old man hissed sharply at his nephew. “What exactly do you think you are doing?!”

Zuko finally wrenched his arm from his uncle’s grasp, and massaged the sore muscle. “That,” he started with authority, “is no way to speak to your Crown Prince-”

“You are not the Crown Prince!!” Iroh’s furious whisper held heat enough to warm the little stone room. “You were banished, stripped of title and honor, forced to shave your head! Do you think any Fire Nation soldier would treat you with any deference?” Iroh took two long, deep breaths, and the room cooled. “The Avatar defeated us at the South Pole. Then you elected to travel with him, under his conditions, to his home which our army destroyed utterly a hundred years ago.” He closed his fist around the little flame and stood to push the drapes back from the door. “Let me show you something, Prince Zuko.”

Zuko had to jump to his feet and jog to catch up to his decrepit uncle. Something kept him silent while Iroh led him confidently through the spiralling halls and back to ground level. Once they were outside, Iroh turned around and followed the curve of the wall back the other way, from the outside this time. And he kept walking. Past the lemurs munching on the Lychee nuts, past the old, rotting wood of what looked like a sports arena, past a waterfall and a cliff so close to the building that the two Firebenders had to creep sideways against the wall to squeeze by.

Finally, they rounded a bend, and Zuko stopped in his tracks. His uncle spoke quietly. “This field used to be where the Air Nomads of the Southern Temple housed visiting groups of Flying Bison. As you can see,” he motioned out at the field, “there are no more bison.”

Zuko looked out on a field filled with grave markers in orderly rows. Piles of stones stacked to a point, each cairn two feet tall, some older and covered in moss, a few as yet unfinished and still sporting empty holes in the ground. How many of them were there? Too many to count. For once, the Prince had no words.

Iroh sighed. “When I didn’t see piles of corpses in the temple, I guessed he had probably been burying them here.” Zuko sensed a reserved quality in his uncle’s voice, and remembered that this was not the first time the great General had seen this many dead. “Do you see any differences between them? Any indication of who is Fire Nation and who is Air Nomad?” He looked pointedly at his young nephew. “I don’t. Dead is dead, and human is human. Everyone grieves, and everyone is grieved for.”

Zuko stood silently for a long time, and Iroh stood with him. There were so, so many of them. How many were Fire Nation? Did it even matter? He remembered his uncle’s words from before. You elected to travel with him, under his conditions, to his home… And he had proceeded to antagonize him, in this the place of this man’s greatest joy and greatest sorrow.

The shadows were longer and deeper when Zuko came back to himself. “It’s getting late; we should get back.” His uncle stood beside him, hands clasped behind his back. He waited for Zuko to move first. The two of them traced their way back around the cliffs to the main arched entrance to the temple and through one of the first doors, to the interior of the main tower.

They entered the main central chamber, which appeared to have once been a grand gathering room of some sort, and saw that two stone tables had been arranged in the middle of the wide arched dome. Katara was laughing with total abandon at a lemur who had stolen a moon peach from Sokka and was leading the boy on a merry chase around the room. Zuko almost felt silly being so thoughtful and morose in a room filled with laughter like that. He cautiously let himself smile, just a bit, and sat with his uncle at the other table.

A swinging wood door off to one side flew open with a crash, and Aang strode through, leading an array of floating stone platters with food. The smells of curry and various vegetables filled the hall. Zuko’s jaw dropped at the unfamiliar, savory aromas. Fire Nation food was almost always very spicy; even the desserts were lightly topped with chili or cayenne powder. But the curry smells here had none of the familiar bite, and the dumplings seemed to have more bread than komodo chicken.. With a sharp movement, Aang separated the floating stones and set each one gently on the tables, splitting the food evenly for everyone. Zuko moved toward the plate of dumplings, but his uncle nudged him under the table. They both looked to the Avatar.

Aang played the good host. “What you see here is traditional Air Nomad cuisine, steamed vegetable dumplings and my favorite tofu curry. Dessert will be plum pies and traditional Air Nomad tea, both of which are still in preparation. Please enjoy.” He took a dumpling from Zuko’s plate, waggled an eyebrow, and strode back into the side room, presumably to monitor the desserts.

When Aang had gone, Zuko turned to Iroh and spluttered “Did you see that? He took my food!”

Iroh chuckled. “And I will take more of it. It’s all on one plate, Prince Zuko. We will share what has been provided, and I am significantly bigger than you.” He slapped his belly and smiled at Zuko’s discomfort. Zuko cringed and resigned himself to eating whatever he could get to before his uncle.

Despite the lack of spice, the food was surprisingly flavorful, and Zuko ate every bite he could snatch from the plate. When Aang returned with three steaming plum pies, he leaned toward their sweet smell with great anticipation, and took two slices before Iroh even touched the plate. When the pies were gone and Zuko’s stomach ached from the hearty meal, Iroh leaned back with a cup of tea and sighed. “I never would have thought I would someday taste the tea from an Air Temple. Avatar Aang put flour in it, which was unexpected, but it gives it a certain smoothness.”

“Maybe if you like it so much, you should ask him to teach you,” said Zuko with a snort of derisive laughter.

Iroh considered it for a moment and said “Perhaps I will…” Zuko groaned and stood to leave, and Iroh let him go with a smile. “Make sure you came back to the room early enough to get some sleep! We’ll probably be leaving again tomorrow.”

Zuko casually waved a hand over his shoulder and left the room. Now, which way was the exit? He turned and started walking. Everything looked so similar here. All the walls were this homogenous beige color, all the corners were smoothed out and rounded, the wear patterns in the floor were no different, and Zuko thought he could get lost so easily if he didn’t pay attention. As he walked, he found the circle growing tighter. He had definitely turned the wrong way. Might as well see what’s up here, he thought, and kept going.

It wasn’t as cold here as it had been at the Pole, but the wind had a curious sharpness when it swept through the windows and into the hall to chill him. He kept climbing, circling tighter and tighter until there could only be two or three rooms in the middle anymore. When he came to a door, he looked inside, and gasped.

Why was this room not locked? This was clearly an ornate door, nothing like the draperies or wood-swinging doors in the rest of the temple, but it was wide open, and Zuko stepped through with some trepidation. It took a few heartbeats for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. One tiny skylight at the very top of the vaulted ceiling was all the illumination this wide open chamber had. Nothing glittered, glowed, or shined in the dark. There were only rows upon rows of rough stone statues.

Zuko stepped closer to the center of the room, drawn to the one statue partially lit by the weak ray of sunlight from above. The others seemed to stare endlessly at him as he passed, from their places on the floor and set into recesses in the wall, spiralling up endlessly and out of view. The one in the light was Fire Nation, by his clothes, with long hair and an oddly familiar hairpiece adorning his topknot. The statue’s eyes seemed to bore into Zuko. He felt naked before them, like all his mistakes were out in the open, and all his accomplishments were being judged.

The sound of a throat being conspicuously cleared startled Zuko, and he turned to see Aang standing in the ornate doorway. His kind face showed no anger or even surprise at finding Zuko here, in what must be a sacred place. How long had he been standing there? Zuko stammered “Uh… I was just-”

“It’s okay, young Prince,” the Avatar interrupted. “Often we find ourselves in important moments without knowing how or why. You are clearly meant to witness this.” The last Airbender strode calmly to the center of the spiral, to the place beside the Firebender statue. He took a solid, purposeful stance, and waited. No breath of air disturbed his clothes or hair, no sound echoed through the chamber, and Zuko heard his heartbeat tick off the seconds.

Then, as the light faded from the room and the sun began to set outside, Zuko saw for the second time the tattoos on Aang’s hands begin to glow. The arrow on his forehead, nearly obscured by hair and age, lit the room around him. A strong wind swirled among the endless statues, and each of their staring eyes lit up in turn, a sea of life in the once-still chamber. Zuko felt so very small. He got the sense that something momentous was happening around him, but he was not a part of it, merely an observer, completely unimportant.

And then everything settled down again. The eerie wind faded, the statues returned to their dark and stoic vigil, and Aang stopped glowing and opened his eyes. “Now, things are really in motion,” he said cryptically, and then “Come, your uncle has promised me a tsungi horn performance.” He did not touch Zuko, but the boy followed as if pulled by the arm, and the ornate door swung silently shut behind them.

Plodding along behind the Avatar, Zuko could already hear the echo of his uncle’s tsungi horn, and when they passed the door to his room, he excused himself from the performance and pulled the drapes behind him. The stone bed was entirely unappealing, so he pulled a candlestick from his uncle’s pack, set it up on the bed like a table, and lit it with a snap of his fingers. The flickering candlelight made dancing shadows on the stone walls. He watched them for a time, and then shut his eyes to meditate.

His uncle had always said meditation was a way to calm and balance one's mind, but Zuko hadn’t ever felt less balanced. He settled on the idea of his destiny, focusing and reminding himself that, whatever happened, he had a purpose and a goal. He had to return with the Avatar to the Fire Nation. He had to pass his father’s test. It didn’t really matter what Aang’s plans were. They were unimportant before the force of Destiny.

At some point, he must have fallen asleep, because when he woke to find himself laying on the stone floor with his uncle’s cloak beneath his head, the morning sun was streaming through the window and casting a soft glow onto the floor of the little room. He stood and stretched his sore muscles, gathered up his uncle’s cloak into a bundle on the bed, and left the room to find someone.

He found his uncle sitting in the main courtyard with a cup of tea, watching a small group of lemurs crawl across Nini’s thick fur. Iroh took a sip of his steaming tea and sighed. “Isn’t this nice, Prince Zuko? So peaceful here, and the Avatar plays a mean game of Pai Sho. I think I could stay here for a long time and be quite content.”

“We can’t stay, Uncle,” said Zuko automatically. “We have to get the Avatar back to the Fire Nation. I have to restore my honor.” He scowled at the Flying Bison. He would have to ride in her saddle again soon, but he didn’t have to like it. Nini was the physical embodiment of the Avatar’s uncooperative decision not to immediately submit. She was the vehicle taking them in the wrong direction. She turned a wide, fur-cloaked eye on him and groaned. He rolled his eyes and turned back to Iroh. “Has he told you when we will be leaving?”

Iroh took a slow sip of tea. “We will be continuing our journey to the North Pole as soon as everyone is packed.”

Zuko’s temper flared. “The North Pole?!” He knocked Iroh’s tea to the ground, and a flurry of lemurs started licking it from the paving stones. “We are supposed to be going home! Why on earth are we going to the North Pole?!”

Iroh mused to himself, “I know you’re not supposed to cry over spilt tea, but it’s just so sad.” At Zuko’s answering growl, he sighed and looked his nephew in the eye. “We are going to the North Pole because Katara needs to take her Mastery test. She wants to officially be a Master Waterbender. And because we have not yet convinced the Avatar to do anything he did not want to when we set out. Have patience, Prince Zuko.”

Seeing that he would get nothing but frustration from his uncle, Zuko stormed back into the temple to pack the rest of their things. He might have to bide his time, but destiny would get him home in the end. He would become Fire Lord.


	3. The Warriors of Kyoshi

“Here we are,” said Aang finally, “Kyoshi Island.” This was the first island with a name since they’d left the Air Temple. They had only stopped to fish and gather seaweed and fruit to eat. So when Nini landed on the wide beach, everyone clambered from her saddle as quickly as they could, eager for human interaction. “There’s so much to do here, if anyone’s interested.” Aang’s face was so animated that Zuko almost smiled from vicarious excitement. “The Shrine of Kyoshi is up in the village, there’s an extinct volcano you can visit, there are plenty of rivers and waterfalls for you to practice Waterbending, Katara, and for the adventurous,” he looked sideways at Sokka, “there is a school of Elephant Koi that lives in the bay that you can ride if you’re fast enough to catch one!”

Sokka whooped and exclaimed “I’m definitely gonna ride one!” He immediately pulled off his shirt and started toward the shoreline, but Aang called him back.

“Maybe we could get Nini unpacked, and greet our hosts first? You’ll want some time to rest and eat, so you can be ready for the adventure.” He picked up Sokka’s pack and held it out to him with a raised eyebrow.

Sokka sighed and pulled his shirt back over his head. “You’re right, of course.” He stepped closer and grabbed the pack, shouldering it the same way his sister had. “So where is the village then? Let’s get going.”

Aang paused. “I’m not really sure,” he mused. “Kyoshi would know, but things have changed here so much since the events of her life that I don’t recognize the landscape.” He shielded his eyes from the sun and stared up the hill behind them. “I wish there were signs of people about…”

With no sound and in quick succession, each one of them was hooded and tied by the wrists and ankles. With a breathless grunt as he hit the ground, Aang shouted “Don’t fight!” and though no one could see them, both Iroh and Nini relaxed their tense muscles.

“Hush!” called a high voice. Zuko pulled and strained at the ropes around his wrists, but the knots were solid. “Stop squirming or you’ll be the Unagi’s lunch,” said the same voice, either a woman or a child, but incredibly confident in themself.

Zuko growled low in his throat. No one hogtied the Prince of the Fire Nation. He rolled to move his hands into position to create a blowtorch to free his feet, but before he could, a swift and very strong kick to his ribs took his breath away. He coughed. These people had done it now. He would let them take him to their base of operations, and then he would get free, and then he would show them. Someone picked him up and threw him over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He seethed.

Zuko felt the air shake and quiver, like a massive drum had been struck and he could feel the vibrations in his chest. He heard Aang say “Do you have to throw two old men around like this? Couldn’t you just lead us where we’re going? We can’t see anything anyway.” There was a pause and shuffle of clothing, and Aang said no more.

Another voice just behind Zuko spoke up. “What do we do with the furry creature? What even is it?”

The first voice answered. “It seems to be calm; it layed down at least. Leave it be for now.” Sounds of footsteps on shallow snow reached Zuko’s ears just before the shoulder under his ribs bounced and began moving. Wherever they were taking him, they would know their errors soon.

They walked for quite a while. Zuko started counting the seconds when he realized they weren’t stopping anytime soon, and counted for another ten minutes before he was heaved from the shoulder and unceremoniously dumped in the dirt. Here, the dust was dry, so the snow had been removed quickly and some time ago. They had arrived in the populated area of the island. He was jostled upright and tied to a wide pole, shoulder to shoulder with others on both sides. The bouncy flesh on the arm to his right made him think that was his uncle, and the other was so small it had to be one of the Water Tribe peasants.

Their hoods were removed all at once. Standing before them were several women in green uniforms with heavy facepaint and fans strapped to their hips, an older man who might have been a leader of some kind, and a crowd of people who were clearly civilians in basic gray clothing. The warrior woman with the most ornate headdress spoke up. “Who are you? And why are you here? Speak quickly or we may decide to throw you in the bay for the Unagi.”

Aang smiled wide. “We came to see the home of Avatar Kyoshi!” He seemed totally unperturbed by the fact that he was bound and tied to the same pole the rest of them were.

The old man who might have been a leader scoffed. “How did you know this was the place? Kyoshi Island has stayed out of the war so far, and the only ones who know Avatar Kyoshi lived here are people who also lived here. And you travel with Fire Nation escorts? I think not!”

Aang’s voice fell silent for a moment, and then resounded through the village courtyard. “I know because I am the Avatar.”

“That’s impossible,” retorted the warrior woman. “The last Avatar was an Airbender who disappeared a hundred years ago.”

“Yup, that’s me!” Zuko rolled his eyes at the familiar and frustrating playful tone he heard in Aang’s voice.

The old leader turned away and scorned, “Throw the imposter to the Unagi!” The warrior woman and her comrades drew their fans and advanced on the group. Zuko couldn’t see Aang, but he saw the two teenagers turn their heads to see what he would do, trusting completely that he would get them out of whatever horror ‘The Unagi’ was.

The rope around Zuko’s waist went unexpectedly slack, and the crowd of civilians, to a man, went wide-eyed in astonishment with faces upward. Zuko followed their gazes, and saw Aang slowly floating to the ground, gray hair flowing about his shoulders and baggy blue shirt billowing under the force of his Airbending.

“You are the Avatar,” breathed the old leader. His shoulders slumped in awe. One person in the crowd fell to his knees.

Aang smiled, nodded, and reached into his shirt looking for something. “Now,” he said dramatically, “watch this!” He whipped his hand out and made a quick motion, which sent two marbles spinning around each other in the empty space between his hands. His giddy grin had an infectious energy. Zuko fought back his own smile, and harrumphed instead.

The whole group was released in short order, and apologies made for any discomfort caused to companions of the Avatar. In particular, the warrior woman, Suki, could not stop apologising for personally tossing Aang to the ground. “We saw you were travelling with Fire Nation soldiers, and we just assumed…”

“Don’t mention it,” Aang assured her. “It was an honest mistake, and no harm came of it. I really appreciate all your hospitality; the food is particularly amazing!” He stuffed a sweet bun in his mouth and made muffled, appreciative sounds.

Zuko ate enough to be polite, but he was missing the heat and bite of Fire Nation food. Everything here just felt bland in comparison. He noticed sideways glances everywhere he went. It seemed like, even when he was with this town’s personal Avatar hero, he was universally mistrusted. He supposed it made sense; Kyoshi Island was an Earth Kingdom territory after all, and the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation had been actively warring with each other for decades now. But he found himself steering clear of crowds and staying in his room whenever he didn’t have things to do.

They stayed for several days. Every morning, Zuko would first train with his uncle, then meditate on a cliff facing the morning sun. Sometimes, on his way back to the village, he would spot Aang training Katara in Waterbending, and was shocked at the sheer strength of the girl. Her technique wasn’t quite as polished as the Airbender’s, but she was still very good.

On the fourth morning, Aang woke up the group early. “We’re going swimming today!” His gleeful smile was completely lost on Zuko, who tried twice to growl and turn over before giving up and joining a sleepy Sokka and Katara for breakfast.

Before the fog had cleared, they were all gathered on the beach, Aang grinning, Sokka dancing, Katara wringing her hands, Zuko impatiently tapping his foot, Iroh sipping tea, and several of the village children milling about, waiting for the action to start. They all stared, only Iroh and Aang patiently, at the glittering water.

With a crash, an enormous koi fish breached the surface, sending diamond sparkling water droplets high into the air. Half a second later, two more crashed into the air. The mist from their brief, gravity-defying flights sprayed them all on the beach. Aang locked eyes with Sokka, Sokka quivered with excitement, and Aang nodded.

Sokka dashed out into the water and swam quickly into the deeper bay. Aang stepped up to the water’s edge after him, but did not go farther than ankle-deep. Sokka spent a few minutes swimming after first one fish then another, never quite fast enough to catch it and grab onto its ten-foot-tall spine ridge. Aang watched calmly, not moving, whispering to himself “Almost, just a little longer, you’ll love this, just keep going, almost…”

Sokka was the closest he had been this time, but his hand brushed the smooth scales of a koi’s back and slid back into the water as the giant fish passed under him. He and the fish both rose on a mound of water being pushed up from something much larger and deeper. The koi stopped short and was pulled under, leaving small whirlpools in its place. Sokka stared for a heartbeat, and then looked back to Aang. “What happened? What took it?!”

The local kids gasped and stared. “The Unagi!” said one in an awed, breathless voice. It took Zuko a moment to process what was happening, and then he locked his attention on Sokka, still rising on the mound of displaced water.

A light wind tickled Zuko’s ankles. Aang raised his hands, shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. Except now, they glowed. His hands and forehead pulsed with that light for a second. And with a strong motion, Aang caused the water around Sokka’s feet to freeze. Sokka was now standing, frozen in place, but gliding across the top of the water, under Aang’s direction.

From the depths of Kyoshi Bay, the Unagi arose. A gargantuan eel with black skin and long tendrils on its face, rising easily fifty feet from the surface of the water, and undulating like the waves themselves.

Aang swung his arms again, and Sokka rose just as high on a giant wave crest. The force of the wave subdued the Unagi for just long enough that Aang could lift Sokka onto the beast’s flat forehead and freeze his feet into place. When the Unagi shook its head, Sokka grabbed the tendrils one at a time, and pulled them taut, finding that the Unagi responded to a tug on one tendril by turning that direction. It took a few moments for him to get the hang of the controls, and then he swung the massive monster in a circle around the bay, whooping and smiling wider than anyone ever had in Zuko’s memory.

And then he heard Katara’s soft, despairing voice. “Oh no…”

What more could possibly be happening?! He followed the girl's gaze, and saw exactly what. A Fire Navy ship. And that flag could only be… “No!” Commander Zhao. Zuko’s uncle took his arm and pulled him into the underbrush. “Uncle, what are you doing?”

“You must not be seen here, and not with the Avatar. Commander Zhao would like nothing better than to wait for you to do or say something that would authorize him to arrest you.” He pulled Zuko behind a group of boulders and watched as Aang and the rest of the beachgoers rushed about, some back to the village and others out into the forest like them. Aang and Katara rushed toward the village. Sokka herded most of the young kids into the woods.

After what felt like an hour of silence, the first sounds of fighting reached their ears. Metal fans against the whoosh of flames. Zuko couldn’t see the kids nearby, but he did hear soft sobs through the trees. Sokka’s soothing whisper floated in the air, assuring them that the Warriors were fighting, that Suki couldn’t be beaten, that the Avatar was there, too.

The sounds of fighting stretched on. Zuko sat in the shelter of the underbrush and stewed in his helplessness, the unbreakable grip of his uncle’s command, and the inescapable knowledge that Zhao would absolutely take even the slightest hint of Zuko cooperating with the Avatar as treason and evidence enough to arrest or execute him before his seventeenth birthday.

Quick footsteps cut through the distant fight sounds. Aang’s head popped over the top of the boulders, his mussed hair falling over his hands. “Time to go; we’ve been here too long.” He disappeared in a flurry of activity, and his impossible whistle echoed across the forest, calling Nini to him.

Zuko gritted his teeth and followed his uncle and his prey. He was seriously considering if it was worth the appearance of dishonor - following the commands of the Avatar of all people - to regain honor in the end. For now, it was his only choice. If he let the Avatar get away, he might never see him again. The only place Zuko knew the man might be later was the Northern Water Tribe, and that fortress of a bending nation was completely impenetrable.

Nini landed with a groan on the beach. Zuko, Iroh, the two Water Tribe kids, and the Avatar climbed aboard, and Aang cried “Yip yip!” to send them all skyward. Looking back over the small village of non-bender Warrior women, Zuko saw the thatched roofs and wood structures ablaze, saw the old leader sprinting toward a burning building with a bucket of water. That’s right. He let the Avatar stay in his village. He harbored a wanted man. He deserved to fight this fire alone.

But then a woman and a baby came running from the house. And more people with buckets arrived. The Fire Navy ship was backing out of the harbor to follow Nini’s escape, but Aang brought the Bison to a stop and stood on her forehead, arms outstretched. With a momentary glow and a surging motion from his arms, the entire bay rose, gently flooding the village and quenching the fires before falling back into the sea.

The surge of water flooded the Fire Navy ship as well. Zuko saw it list to the side, and the curl of smoke from belowdecks said there was damage to the mechanical structures. They would be lucky to make it out of the bay, let alone to the nearest outpost for repairs. Zuko felt just the slightest bit smug. This was his prisoner. Zhao had no idea who he was dealing with.


	4. The King of Omashu

Aang guided Nini to land behind a large rock, out of view of the road. He leapt in typical billowing Airbender fashion to the ground and helped first Katara, then Sokka out of the saddle after him. He reached back up for Zuko, but the Prince scowled and did not take the tattooed hand. Iroh waited a moment for his nephew, and then took the offered hand instead. They started down the slope to the road, and Zuko had to scramble off Nini’s back to join them.

Aang reached the center of the road and stopped. He spread his arms wide. “Welcome, one and all, to the Earth Kingdom city of Omashu!”

Situated on top of a tall spire in a deep chasm was perhaps the strangest city Zuko had ever seen. From this distance, the whole thing looked to be one color, and the same color as both the spire it topped and the edges of the chasm beyond. There was no metal, smoke, or bright colors like Zuko had expected of a great city, nor were there very many people out and about on the main road crossing the chasm. He tried not to look down as he took his first steps out onto the stone bridge that spanned the chasm, the only way in and out of the city. It was one thing to be high on the bridge of a ship, but another entirely to be standing on a thin strip of stone suspended over a wide canyon with nothing between you and the ground.

As they walked, Aang prattled on and on about his past in the city. “I always used to come here to visit my friend Bumi. We got into some really crazy shenanigans.” He pulled a wide-brimmed hat from his small pack and used it to hide his forehead tattoo. His long sleeves were enough to hide his hands, as long as he didn’t move them around too much. “You guys are going to love it here. The people of Omashu are isolated from the War, so they can be a little mistrustful of Fire Nation visitors,” he glanced apologetically at Iroh, and Zuko caught himself before he reached up to touch the wrinkled scar over his left eye, “but otherwise they are the friendliest people I have had the pleasure of knowing.”

The harsh voice of the gate guard met their ears. “Rotten cabbages? What kind of slum do you think this is?” The guard crushed a wilted head of cabbage in one hand while the elderly cabbage merchant looked on in horror. The guard knocked two more cabbages from the old man’s hands, and made as if to Earthbend the entire cart over the side of the bridge and into the abyss below.

“Stop!” Aang cried, and rushed forward. “What has this man done to deserve the destruction of his livelihood?” Aang’s elderly face and powerful stance threw the guard off balance, and the Airbender left no room for argument. “It is a very hot, very sunny day. Cabbages are a crop which requires shade and water to look their best.” He took a cabbage from the cart and held it gently, showcasing it for the guard. “These cabbages are not rotten, they are merely wilting in the sun while this kind man brings them to market.”

The guard looked taken aback at the interruption. “And who are you to question the decisions we make to safeguard our city? State your business here!” He looked over the Water Tribe kids, and then his eyes fell on the sharp crimson points of Iroh and Zuko’s Fire Nation clothing. “And theirs.”

Aang screwed his face up into a mostly-convincing scowl and made a show of getting in the guard’s face with a pointing finger. “You know what, young man? I have half a mind to bend you over my knee and teach you to have some respect for your elders. We have as much right to be here as anyone else. Whether my friend was born on this side or the other of the front lines, he is a good man and my friend, and his nephew is here with my grandkids to see Omashu! Now, are you going to let us all in so we can be tourists and so this merchant can make a living, or am I going to have to show you exactly why you never see old people in military ranks lower than Commander?”

With a look of shock, the guard raised his hands in defeat and said “Settle down, oldtimer! Just tell me who you are.”

Aang smiled and stood back a bit, assuming a calmer tone. “Name’s Bonzu Pippinpaddleopsicopolis, the Third. And these are my grandkids.” He swept the nearest Water Tribe child forward, bringing Katara face to face with the Earthbending guard.

“Hi,” she said quickly. “June Pippinpaddleopsicopolis. Nice to meet you.” Aang patted her shoulder in approval, out of sight of the guard.

The burly Earthbender rubbed his beard pensively, looking from one traveller to the next, and finally settling back on Katara. “You seem like a responsible young lady. See that your grandfather stays out of trouble.” He shut his eyes and smiled for a moment, then opened them and made a forceful downward motion, which caused the unbroken stone wall before them to slide into the ground to reveal the gate. “Enjoy Omashu!” he said, and waved everyone through.

On the other side of the gate, the elderly cabbage merchant stopped Aang by grabbing his hand and shaking it vigorously. “Thank you, stranger! I can’t say how much this means to me! You saved my family from going hungry this month!” He stopped short when he saw the hand he was shaking, and the blue arrow tattoo on the back of it near the wrist.

Aang met the old man’s wide eyes with the same kind smile he had shown Zuko on their first meeting, that hopeful, joyous, infectious smile that had so shaken Zuko’s expectations of the old Avatar. The cabbage merchant stared, his expression slowly making its way through shock, uncertainty, hope, and settling on wonder. Aang held a finger to his lips, and the man nodded immediately. He bustled off without another word.

“Now,” said the disguised Avatar, clapping his hands and looking about, “what is the fastest way to an audience with the King?” Zuko couldn’t see why Aang wanted to see the King. He was in hiding, after all. He had just told the cabbage merchant to keep quiet. And in the same minute, he was ready for an audience with a King?

The group trekked through the market stalls. Aang bought a few odds and ends, thread for sewing clothes, a few exotic Earth Kingdom fruits that looked like they could handle rough travel, a pair of light knitted gloves, but didn’t bother asking questions of any of the merchants. Suddenly, he turned to them and said “The King accepts visitors who have knowledge he does not!”

Iroh let out a hearty laugh. “Then he will be most interested to have an audience with you!”

Zuko fumed. These old men were making things up. “How could you possibly know that?”

Katara responded, “Weren’t you paying attention to the people around us? The man running the stand where we bought the fingerless gloves is hoping that he can get in to see the King by telling him that gloves without fingers improve the wearer’s ability to Earthbend.”

“What?” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Of course I was paying attention. I was just assessing threats instead of listening to idle chatter and useless trivia.”

A snort of laughter drew Zuko’s eyes to Sokka, and after a moment Sokka stopped under the scarred glare. “Well, it wasn’t useless, was it?” he asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Zuko crossed his arms and shut his mouth. The Water Tribe peasants would never understand. The potential dangers of a crowd of enemy combatants were not hidden in words. He had seen no less than four people stare at them as they passed. Any one of those people could have recognized the Fire Nation Prince or General, and parroted their discovery to every guard in the city.

The group followed Aang up the sloping streets toward the summit of the cone-shaped city. The steps of the palace blended smoothly into the steps of the sidewalk at that height, and without really knowing how, Zuko found himself staring at a set of ornate, jewel-encrusted doors and watching Aang walk past them like he belonged. Inside the doors, lanterns along the walls cast an eerie green light through the hallway, amplified by the Earth Kingdom green tapestries and rugs on every flat surface. It made the whole place feel sickly and contorted. Zuko thought he would really enjoy a trough of bright orange flames built into the center of the hallway, and a few crimson tapestries with old Kings depicted in the height of their military might.

An Earthbending guard at the other end of the long hall stopped them from opening a tall door. “State your business.”

“I would like an audience with the King,” said Aang with a mischievous smile. “I know something he doesn’t know.”

The guard smiled, but it was forced. Zuko thought he probably heard that line all the time. “Alright,” the Earthbender started, “you will wait in the antechamber for His Majesty to accept your offer.” He motioned to the door on their left, a much smaller one than the center door they had approached.

Aang bowed with an Earth Kingdom hand placement, one hand in a fist with the other wrapped over it, and led the group into the antechamber. There were enough chairs for all of them, and a table in the middle with a Pai Sho set. Aang and Iroh sat at the table and started a game. Zuko sat and stared at the door, tapping his foot impatiently as time ticked by. He was about to lose his cool and bust the door down when it opened from the outside instead and a new guard waved them all forward.

Iroh was uncharacteristically quiet after so long without food, and followed Aang out the door and through the other into the throne room without a word. The three younger people followed, each deciding for themselves that letting the older men speak was the best course of action. For Zuko’s part, he wasn’t sure he or his uncle should even be in the room with an Earth Kingdom ruler.

They approached the throne and Aang made the standard bow. “Your Highness, I know something you don’t know.”

The man on the throne was ancient. His hair was thin and frayed, his face heavily lined and sagging on one side, his teeth crooked in his wide smile, and his baggy robes hid a back hunched so far that Zuko was amazed the man could sit so squarely in the massive throne. “Clearly,” he began in a surprisingly clear but breathy voice. “You bring the great Dragon of the West into my city and into my throne room. Surely you have found a breach in my defenses.”

“No, King. Not that. We walked through the main gate like everyone else who visits your fair city.”

Zuko saw the guards stiffen and look to their King for his reaction. The ancient monarch stared with his good eye for a few moments, then said “I see. Then perhaps you come to tell me that your fingerless gloves actually do improve Earthbending, as their inventor suggests.”

“No, King. I make no such claims, as I have not used Earthbending while wearing them.”

The guards looked as confused as Zuko felt. Why was his uncle smiling like a child on his birthday? The old King paused longer this time. “Perhaps then, you come to tell me of the rumors of some large furry creature sailing through the sky, as I have heard whispered near the eastern wall today.”

“No, King. I would not bring you rumor and call it fact merely to gain an audience with you.”

The old King raised one eyebrow impossibly high. “Then what, pray tell, do you know that I don’t?”

All eyes were on Aang, waiting for his answer. In a conspiratorial tone, with eyes locked on the King’s face, he said “I have seen the Avatar.”

The King waved his hand dismissively. “So have I, a hundred years ago. He was but a child when the Air Nomads were wiped out by the Fire Nation. The new Avatar never resurfaced.”

Aang took half a step forward, catching looks of warning from the guards as they readied their weapons, and a look of intrigue from the King. “Recently, Your Highness. Interrogate me as you will, it is truth.” He smiled that wide, infectious smile. “The Avatar is among us today!”

The old King leaned forward and rubbed his scraggly beard. “If what you say is true, then you have earned your audience with me,” he mused, and Zuko thought the old King might be just now considering granting them an audience, instead of concluding it. Then, the old man sprang to his feet faster than Zuko thought wise, and said “Very well. Prove your worth and the truth of your claim to me and I will grant your audience.”

“I am yours to test, Your Highness,” said Aang, too quickly for any of this to be unexpected. Just what was he doing? Zuko couldn’t see a reason that Aang might bring the Water Tribe kids here. The Air Temple had been his home, the Island of Kyoshi was a historical site from his past, but why was this going to be interesting for them? And how?

The King laughed and snorted, solidifying for Zuko that he really was just a strange elderly man and had no business on the throne anyway. “Follow me, then,” he said, swinging his green robes to keep them out from under his feet. They followed quickly, filing through a small door behind the throne one-at-a-time. Concerned looks from both Sokka and Katara told Zuko he was not the only one confused and worried about their situation. He would just have to be ready. He breathed deeply, hearing his uncle’s words, The breath becomes energy in the body...

They entered a large, open chamber with a sandy floor. The King stopped them on the ledge just before the path dropped off into the cavern, and said “Prove to me you can see truth. My dear pet lives in this cavern with other creatures, and it’s lunch time. Go bring Flopsie to me so I can get him his food.” His voice was a singsong mock-order by the end, which made Zuko clench his jaw, but Aang nodded, smiled, and slid down the slope into the cavern.

It didn’t take long for two creatures to make their way out of the rock-strewn sand. One was a common rabbitmouse, and the other was a massive goatgorilla. Both ran directly for Aang, weaving between boulders taller than the man. Aang stood his ground, waited for them to get closer, then nimbly sidestepped the rabbitmouse, ducked under the goatgorilla’s flopping ears, and used its momentum to swing himself up onto its back. The beast slowed under his direction and came to a halt at the bottom of the slope. Aang shouted up to the King, “Sir, I believe this to be yours. He seems hungry.”

The King whistled, and Flopsie leapt to the ledge, dragging a startled Aang with him. First one, then the other old man started to laugh. Then, without warning, the King stopped and hurried along the path to another tunnel deeper into the stone. The group had to scramble to keep up with the frail, hunched old man.

The next cavern was full of stalagmites pushing up from the ground and stalactites reaching from the ceiling to meet their counterparts. A waterfall made the cavern into an echo chamber. Zuko could hardly hear himself think. The King shouted to be heard. “Prove to me you can think critically about what you see. That key,” he said, pointing to a chain in the center of the waterfall with something small hanging on the end, “unlocks my pantry. I need it so I can get Flopsie his food. Please get it for me.” Again, Zuko heard the singsong quality in the King’s voice, and thought he might be making a game of this. How unprofessional.

Aang nodded, and turned to examine the room. He stood still for a long time. Zuko leaned over to ask his uncle if everything was okay, and got an elbow to the ribs in response. A moment later, Aang was jumping from stalagmite to stalagmite, balancing almost unnaturally on the sharp points. He reached up as he passed a thick vine and pulled it with him, freeing enough slack to tie it in a knot around his wrist and arm. He yanked again, and the other end of the vine came free. He slid carefully down close to the cavern floor, found a substantial rock, and with some visible difficulty lifted it and tied it securely to the other end of the vine.

When he was back at the points of the stalagmites, now as near as he could get to the waterfall without starting to slip on algae and spray, he swung the heavy rock slowly around him. He pushed harder each revolution, eventually raising his arm up over his head to keep the rock moving smoothly. Faster and faster it spun in a wide circle, and Aang inched it closer and closer to the waterfall and the key, until it crashed through the torrent of water and came out the other side with the key. The force of the swing sent the rock and the key smashing deep into a stalactite just behind the waterfall, and all three - the rock, the key, and the stalactite - came crashing to the ground. Aang smiled.

He slid between two stalagmites until he was close enough to retrieve the key, and then leapt from point to point until he was back on the ledge with the rest of the group. “Here’s your pantry key, Your Highness.”

The King’s eyes were wide and impressed. “Thank you, kind citizen, for your assistance in accessing Flopsie’s food,” he said with an overly formal flourish. Then, with a wide grin, he dashed off down another tunnel, and the rest of them followed.

Zuko expected to come to another cavern, and they did. He expected it to be completely different from either of the previous caverns, and it was. He expected it to be empty, and it definitely was not. Two large, topless Earthbenders were sparring in the arena when the King and his entourage entered onto the observation platform from the tunnel. They used Earthbending to propel themselves up, jumping twenty feet to the high ledge to greet their King.

“Your next test,” said the cooky King, “will show me your discernment, whether or not you could have understood the complexities of an unusual sight and come to the correct conclusion.” He motioned, and the two Earthbenders moved to stand beside him. “Choose your opponent.”

Aang got a focused seriousness in his voice. “So, you’re saying whoever I point to, that’s the person I get to fight?”

The King nodded. “Choose wisely.”

Aang looked over the burly young men, back and forth as if checking for bruises on a pair of apples. “I choose… you.” He pointed directly at the King’s chest. Zuko gasped. He hadn’t even considered that an option.

The King smiled deviously. “Wrong choice.” He stood straight and tossed his flowing formal robes to the ground, revealing bulky muscle that had made him appear hunched. He stomped a foot and sent Aang tumbling into the arena below. Zuko watched the old man move the ground like a springboard as he followed his opponent down into the ring. Sokka dashed to the railing with horror. They had all heard the soft thud as Aang had hit the ground. They now saw the ripples in the dirt as the King landed beside the Avatar.

“You thought I was a frail old man, but I’m the most powerful Earthbender you’ll ever see,” said the King. He watched for a few moments while Aang climbed to his feet, and then the battle began.

Zuko had never seen Earthbending like this. Half of it was totally beyond his ability to comprehend. The movements looked familiar, but they did such massive and complex things that he had no idea if the old mad King was getting help. He did know for a fact that Aang was not bending anything. Not Earth, not Air. But the King wasn’t landing a single blow. The old Airbender was dodging, weaving, redirecting, and evading every attempt by the King to strike him. He was like a leaf floating between branches of a tree in a strong wind, never touching a single one but passing through without trouble. It was like a high-stakes dance, and Aang was executing the steps flawlessly.

After a very long time and a furious flurry of Earthbending, the mad old King cried “Stop!” Aang immediately dropped his ready stance and walked forward, unphased by the fighting. The King stood tall but breathed heavily. “You have more than surpassed my expectations.” He eyed Aang with one impossibly high eyebrow. “Who are you exactly?”

Aang let out a hearty laugh that echoed just a little too loud against the walls of the arena. “You already know, you just haven’t opened your brain to the possibilities.” He looked the King in the eyes. “What element do I bend?”

The old King squinted at him, thinking. His eyes slowly widened as comprehension dawned on him. Tentatively, he whispered “...Aang?”

The Avatar took a step forward and embraced the King. “Bumi, my old friend, did you think a comet and a military genocide could kill me?” He lifted the King from the ground in his enthusiasm, and with an ecstatic cackle Bumi hugged him back. “So, will you grant me an audience, old friend?”

Bumi wiped a tear from his eye and looked at his friend with wonder. “Of course, Aang.” He stepped back and made a series of sweeping motions, and both he and Aang disappeared into the ground. Zuko jumped back from a sudden rumbling in the ground near him, and the two old men emerged again from a whirlpool of earth. Bumi faced Aang but stood at an angle to include the rest of the group. “What can I or my city do for the Avatar?”

Aang clasped his friend’s hand. “Not for the Avatar, for an old friend…” he said with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “When was the last time you inspected your mail delivery system?”

Half an hour later, Zuko stood staring at an impossibly steep chute, beside the King and the Avatar, wondering how in the world his life had come to this. “Do I have to?”

Aang laughed. “Not really, but I promise it will be good for you. You’ll be in the one with me, Iroh will go with Bumi, and Sokka and Katara can go by themselves. Just ride the chute. Don’t try to guide yourself or skip the track. And for spirits sake, relax a little. Have fun.”

Zuko climbed into the second stone bucket with his mortal enemy directly behind him. His uncle and the King sat in the third bucket, and the Water Tribe siblings took the first one. Aang made a sharp motion, and the first bucket slid away out of sight. Zuko gulped and tried to take a steadying breath. Aang made a sharp motion.

Everything started moving. The wind was what took Zuko’s breath away. His stomach felt like it was up in his throat. He felt a rush of adrenaline. And all his exhilaration turned cold. This light-headed feeling was so familiar. No, I didn’t mean to say that, I’m so sorry… He bowed his head. He knew what happened next.

Pain didn’t come when he expected it, but he knew it would. “Prince Zuko,” said the voice in his head, and he thought Just do it already! But there was still no pain. “Zuko!” It wasn’t in his head, and it wasn’t his father. It was Aang, with one thumb pressed to the center of Zuko’s forehead. “He’s not here. You are not in danger.” The calmness and certainty of the statement was confusing. Of course he was in danger. Why else would he have this adrenaline-fueled feeling? “Zuko, you are safe. He is not here. It’s just me.” Zuko’s eyes focused for a moment, and he was not in the Agni Kai arena. There was no one standing before him. He was not on his knees, he was leaning back. The sun was full in the sky. The wind rushed past his face. Aang’s one arm was up over him, maintaining the thumb on his forehead, and the other was wrapped gently but securely around his body, keeping him from flying out of the stone bucket. “It’s okay. You’re not in danger.”

The bucket jostled and changed directions, following a new branch of the chute. Zuko tried to fight back tears, but it was too much. He discovered he could cry from his scarred eye. “It’s just the wind,” he said, wiping tears onto the sleeve of his shirt. He knew that Aang wasn’t convinced, but he also knew he wouldn’t say anything.


	5. Imprisoned

Zuko had the fire lit, Sokka had the tents set up, and Katara had collected water for Nini when Aang and Iroh returned to the small campsite in the woods, each carrying a large sack stuffed full. Aang smiled and said “We found a whole tree full of apples, some potatoes, and plenty of nuts. We won’t have to break out the jerky reserves yet.”

Zuko cringed and asked, “Uncle, did you get any meat while you were out gathering nuts?” He tried not to take it too personally when he saw Aang’s shoulders dip just the tiniest amount, unwillingly showing Zuko his disapproval.

Iroh showcased his patience. “We are guests of the Avatar, flying on his bison, sharing meals with his wards, and we will abide by his preference for not killing animals.” He tossed his bag gently to the ground near their other supplies.

A boom shook the whole campsite as the bag of non-violent foodstuffs hit the dirt. Everyone was instantly alert. Aang motioned for quiet and set his bag beside the other, just as another shockwave reverberated through the forest around them. He held three fingers out at the three kids and then a flat palm to tell them to stay. Then he pointed to Iroh and waved him to come. Iroh nodded and followed more silently than Zuko would have thought possible for such a large man.

As soon as the two old men were out of sight, Sokka looked between Zuko and Katara and said, “So, we’re following them, right?”

Zuko stood up with a devious grin. “You bet we are.” He started after his uncle and Aang, sticking in their footprints to stay quieter. There was another boom.

The three stepped in each other’s footsteps, keeping in a line, until finally they saw the pale blue-and-white and bright crimson-and-gold of Aang’s and Iroh’s clothing through the underbrush. The old men turned when they heard the kids’ approach, but neither said anything. They motioned the kids forward into the shadow of a large boulder on the edge of a dry riverbed. They heard another boom and saw it shake sand from the tops of smaller rocks. The source was very close, just around the edge of the boulder.

There was a rumble and a shifting hiss of sand as the big boulder they all crouched behind lifted slowly from the riverbed. The kids shuffled backward on their knees to keep out from under it, and Aang stood to be ready if he was needed. His hat-covered head barely reached the top of the moving block of stone.

It took a few seconds for the boulder to be high enough in the air to see under it, and the kids caught a glimpse of green-clad legs before a gasp reached their ears and the stone came crashing down with a vibrating boom. Fast footsteps receded down the riverbed, and Katara ran out shouting “Hey, wait!” The Earthbender made a strong sweep with his arms and an avalanche of pebbles and rocks filled the riverbed between him and Katara, blocking the group from following him. “I just wanted to say hi…”

Aang caught up to her first. “Hey! That guy’s got to be running somewhere. Maybe we’re near a village?” He looked at his travel companions and waggled his eyebrows at Zuko in particular. “And I bet that village has a market.”

“Which means,” Zuko cheered, “we can get meat for dinner!” He climbed the riverbank to get around the blockage, and ran excitedly in the direction the Earthbender had gone. Sokka whooped and followed quickly.

Iroh chuckled and elbowed Aang. “At least he’s excited about something, eh?” Aang’s kind smile was his agreement, and the group started off after the boys.

At the bottom of a hill, they emerged from the trees into a small farming village. Zuko and Sokka immediately split off to find the market. Aang compulsively straightened his hat and tugged on his new fingerless gloves. Iroh walked softly, trying not to seem intimidating in his spiked Fire Nation shoulder pads, and followed his nephew to the market stalls, searching for some less conspicuous clothing.

Zuko didn’t hear from Aang or Katara for a while. He found a vendor selling steaks and bought several. When he turned around, he found his uncle looking at Earth Kingdom clothes, stretching a few shirts across his belly and scowling when they didn’t reach. “Uncle, what are you doing?”

Iroh grunted and gave up the latest attempt. “We need new clothes, especially if we plan to join our companions at the North Pole. We would never make it through the gate wearing this.” He flicked the spiked black shoulder pad for emphasis, then turned back to the merchant. “Do you have any extra fabric I could use to expand this one? It wouldn’t have to be the same color.” The man behind the counter bustled off behind a curtain, and Iroh called after him “And could you see if you have anything in my nephew’s size, too?”

The sound of a door slamming drew Zuko’s eyes to the line of dilapidated shops on the other side of the road. A Fire Nation soldier had just emerged from one with its windows shuttered tightly. He paused to place a handful of coins in a pouch at his waist, and then scanned the crowd. His eyes passed over Zuko and Iroh the first time, but they came back on the second sweep, locked on, and squinted with suspicion.

Zuko turned his scarred eye away quickly and hissed “Uncle, there are Fire Nation soldiers here.”

His uncle mused under his breath, just loud enough for Zuko to hear. “I noticed some time ago. It seems this area is under occupation.” He used the smallest of movements to turn his head and listen to the footsteps of the soldier who now walked the other way along the line of shops. “All the more reason to trade in our clothes.” He smiled broadly at the merchant as if nothing had happened. “Ah, good man, this will work well.” He held up a set of trousers against Zuko’s waist. “I’ll take them. How much?”

A few minutes later and a few coins lighter, Zuko led his uncle to where Aang and Katara were emerging from the very door the Fire Nation soldier had slammed. Sokka came jogging up with an armful of prepared meat kabobs and handed one to Katara. “What’s in that shop?”

“Haru,” his sister replied.

Sokka rolled his eyes. “And who’s Haru?” He took a big bite of meat kabob.

Katara put her hands on her hips. “The Earthbender we saw earlier.” She gasped and covered her mouth.

Confused, Zuko asked “Why is that a bad thing?”

Aang interrupted, “Because the Fire Nation soldiers here arrest and remove any Earthbender, regardless of age, status, or loyalties.” He put a hand on Katara’s shoulder. “It’s okay. See the wind around us in a dome?” He pointed, and Zuko could only just make out what looked like a breeze stirring the dust in the street behind him, but it wasn’t moving and twisting like a normal breeze. It curved in a steady line around them until he couldn’t see any difference on the wood porch. “Sound is just vibrations in the air. If I am careful, I can manipulate it just a little.” Aang saw Iroh’s eyes widen, and gave him a guarded smile.

Katara looked mollified. “Well, Haru and his mom said we could stay at their place tonight, so Nini can rest and we can sleep on something that’s not covered in rocks and sticks.”

Aang looked offended. “Do I not do well enough about smoothing out the rocks when we camp?”

Katara giggled. “You purposefully leave bumps and stuff so it’s harder for people to track us by our campsites.” She glowed under Aang’s proud expression.

It didn’t take them long to trek back to their campsite and gather their things. Nini flew high enough to be unseen while Haru and his mother led the group back to their farm and into the barn. “Sorry to make you stay out here,” the young Earthbender said. “This is the only place your bison would fit. You should leave in the morning.”

Nini took a bite from a tall pile of hay near the back of the barn. Aang cringed, but said “Thanks, Haru. I’ll make sure Nini doesn’t eat all your hay.” Nini stopped and turned her head for a moment, decided she was allowed to finish this bite, and continued chewing.

Katara followed Haru from the barn, and Zuko began setting up a small fire, as had become his custom in these last few weeks. He was careful to move all the hay and leaves away from the firewood before lighting it with a hand motion; he had learned that lesson not terribly long ago and the forest fire had spread quickly before Aang had been able to stop it.

As a special treat, Iroh surprised Zuko by pulling a small box of cayenne pepper powder from a hidden pocket in his newly-altered green travelling clothes, and gave a pinch to Zuko to put on his portion of cowpig steak. The heat in the aroma of the spices reminded him of happy days on the beach, building sandcastles with his cousin Lu Ten. It was a bittersweet memory, but he savored the meat like nothing else.

When dinner was done and all bellies full, Aang flipped the earth under the fire upside down, crushing the embers in solid stone to be absolutely sure they didn’t hurt anything. Everyone settled into their bedrolls, sleeping bags, or in Aang’s case, the fur on Nini’s forehead, but no one was quite ready to sleep.

Sitting up to see everyone, Katara said “It was so brave of Haru to use his Earthbending to save that old man.” Zuko opened his eyes and payed attention. He hadn’t heard about an old man.

Aang nodded. “You must have really inspired him,” he said, clearly in the know. Zuko chafed a little at being left out. They were supposed to be his prisoners. But when had they ever acted like it?

“I guess so,” Katara mused, a bashful grin slowly spreading across her face.

“Everyone should get some sleep,” said Uncle Iroh, “we should be leaving at dawn.” He turned over and without another word began snoring.

Now, Zuko felt wide awake. “Dawn?! Can’t we sleep in for once?” he argued, remembering silk sheets and spiced oranges brought to his bedchamber for breakfast. He would have those things back. As soon as he convinced the Avatar to come back to the Fire Nation to be imprisoned.

Aang seemed surprised, and leaned up on his elbow to look at Zuko. “Absolutely not! This village is crawling with Fire Nation troops. If they discover that either one of us are here, we’ll be in for a fight to get away.”

Zuko spun to face the wall and flipped his bedroll over him angrily. He stopped paying attention to the conversation and closed his eyes. This was all a waste of time, but it would work out. His destiny demanded it.

The morning sun streamed in through the high windows of the barn and woke Zuko from a restless dream he couldn’t quite remember. He had overslept. He looked around, and found Uncle Iroh folding his blanket a few feet away. “Y- you let me sleep in?”

“Are you surprised, Prince Zuko?” his uncle replied with a grin. “We don’t have much to pack, and Avatar Aang is away rescuing that Earthbender boy, Haru-”

Zuko sat bolt upright. “He left? Where? Why?”

Iroh carefully placed his blanket into his small pack, and started folding the cushion of his bedroll. “They went to rescue Haru. The boy was arrested last night and taken to an ocean prison facility for Earthbenders. Katara went undercover by convincing the morning patrol that she was also an Earthbender.”

“So when will they be back?” There was an edge to Zuko’s voice that surprised even him.

Iroh gave no indication that his nephew’s anger had been noticed. “No later than tonight. We will be on our way as soon as they return.” His tightly-rolled bed fit perfectly in the remaining space at the top of his pack, and he pulled the drawstring closed. “In the meantime,” he said, standing, “You and I can work on forms without fire. I want to begin teaching you the more advanced set.”

Zuko squinted at his uncle. “You can’t distract me by finally giving me the next forms,” he growled. “We will come back to why you let the Avatar go without me.” But he climbed out of his blankets and started folding them.

The hours ticked by, and Zuko pushed himself to the edge. He had to be better. He was the Prince. He would rule as Fire Lord someday. They stopped for lunch, and he ate quickly. They continued. It seemed impossible that he never even once landed a blow on his uncle. He never even managed to knock him off balance. The fat old man had never trained Zuko himself before - it had always been the soldiers with them on the ship who had sparred with him - and Zuko was beginning to see how the once-great General had earned his renown.

They had eaten dinner (the last of the steaks before they went bad) by the time Nini reappeared in the sky with a groan. Zuko spotted Aang first and sighed in relief. The Avatar was back in his custody. Then the Water Tribe siblings stood in Nini’s saddle to wave, and he could see Katara cloaked in a brown prison smock over her normal Water Tribe clothes. Behind the bison, a whole group of small transport ships sailed into the harbor, crewed entirely by other people in brown prison smocks.

Zuko gazed in dismay at what were clearly Fire Nation ships crewed by escaped Earthbender prisoners “What happened?!” he asked as Nini touched down in the yard.

He was met by Aang’s infuriating smile. “Haru wouldn’t leave without his father, so we freed all the Earthbenders.”

Sputtering with suppressed anger, Zuko said through gritted teeth “Those were rightfully-held enemy combatants. Prisoners of war. With them free, more will die, and more will burn.” He looked over the ships. “There are more Earthbenders there than could be just from this village.” He clenched his jaw. The Avatar had clearly picked his side in this war. And it was against him. To remain with the Airbender long enough to bring him in would require Zuko to not just see, but probably take part in a few Fire Nation defeats. This would not be the last.

Katara’s lilting voice carried over the drone of the Earthbenders’ conversations. “My mother’s necklace! It’s gone!” Great. And now the Fire Nation would be on the alert for Water Tribe insurgents. They wouldn’t be able to stay under the radar much longer.


	6. The Winter Solstice: The Spirit World

They had been flying for a day and a half. Somehow, they had avoided any sightings of Fire Nation soldiers, Earth Kingdom encampments, or even civilian villages. There had been nothing but unbroken forest and rock outcroppings. Zuko hung his head over the side of Nini’s saddle, scanning for anything new.

Out of the corner of his good eye, he saw a dark splotch in the unbroken green of the forest canopy, and turned to look forward for a better view.

Katara saw him move and followed his gaze. “What is that?” she asked softly. She got up and moved to the front of Nini’s saddle, followed one-by-one by the rest of the group, until they were all staring at the wide swath of burnt wood and ash-covered soil.

“It’s like a scar,” Sokka breathed.

Without a word, Aang guided Nini down. They landed in the middle of the charred stretch of forest. Everyone was hushed and solemn as they climbed out of Nini’s saddle. Iroh bowed his head, and Aang crouched in the ash. Sokka looked around and said “Listen. It’s so quiet.” Zuko listened, and heard nothing but the wind. No birds or bugs even. “There’s no life anywhere.”

The kids walked around a bit, looking for any sign of life in the desolate ash. Sokka’s voice sounded too loud. “Fire Nation!” He pointed to several sets of footprints with hard points at the toe, definitely soldiers’ boots. “Those evil savages make me sick! They have no respect for-”

“Sokka!” barked Zuko, glaring and reflexively clenching his fists.

The Water Tribe boy looked over, oblivious. “What? I’m not allowed to be angry?”

Zuko took three steps forward before his uncle stepped directly between them with a dark scowl on his face that neither could ignore. They both stopped when he pointed behind them, at Aang.

The Avatar was kneeling in the ash, letting it flow through his fingers like sand. He sounded almost tearful. “Why would anyone do this?” He slowly scanned the wide open area. “It’s the Avatar’s job to protect nature, and I wasn’t here to stop this.”

Iroh’s sure speech rang out. “This is not your fault. It is mine.” Zuko stared in shock at his uncle. How on earth was it his fault either?

Aang seemed to know something deeper. “No, my friend, it is not either of our faults. We could trace blame as far back as records go and not find the ultimate source of this.” Ash stained his knitted gloves and he brushed them against his trousers, leaving stains there, too. “I just wish I could have prevented it.” He took off his gloves and rolled up his sleeves to protect his shirt. “But, look,” he said with a wry grin. He held up his hand with an ash-covered lump he had sifted from the sea of destruction.

Katara came closer, eager for something hopeful. “What is it?”

Aang turned the lump in his long fingers until its shape became apparent. “It’s an acorn. They’re everywhere. Given enough time, this whole area will be a lush forest again,” he handed the acorn to Katara, “and all the birds and animals will come back.” He waited to see her smile before he stepped back and turned. “Who are you?”

Startled, the others turned to see an old man in indistinct brown clothes wandering toward them in the ash. “When I saw the flying bison, I thought it was impossible,” he warbled, and stopped walking, “but, those markings…” He pointed to Aang’s exposed forearms and the blue tattoos stretching from his hands up into the baggy blue sleeves. “Are you the Avatar?”

Aang surprised Zuko by immediately nodding. He hadn’t announced himself before but to friends. The old wanderer’s face lit up. “My village desperately needs your help!”

The wanderer led them to a village not far from the swath of destruction, surrounded by green forest. They made their way past two damaged buildings and many empty ones to the large building in the center, and were met by what seemed to be most of the village congregated inside. The old man wasted no time. “This person is the Avatar.”

All conversation stopped and all eyes turned to Aang, leading his small group. One man stepped forward, claiming the leadership of the village. “So the rumors of your return are true!” he said with a formal bow. “It is the greatest honor of a lifetime to be in your presence.”

Aang copied the bow. “Nice to meet you, too.” He stood straight and addressed the man as the whole community. “What can I help you with?”

The leader looked down and away. “I’m not sure…”

The wanderer cut in, chastising the younger man. “Our village is in crisis! He’s our only hope!” He turned back to Aang and began. “For the last few days at sunset, a spirit monster comes and attacks our village.” Zuko remembered the damaged houses on their way in. “He is Hei Bai, the black and white spirit.”

A spirit that could do that kind of damage was nothing to take lightly. Zuko asked “Why is it attacking you?”

This time, the leader spoke up himself. “We do not know. But each of the last three nights, he has abducted one of our own. We are especially fearful because the Winter Solstice draws near.”

Katara looked confused. “What happens at the Winter Solstice?”

Iroh explained. “As the solstice approaches, the natural world and the Spirit World grow closer and closer,” he said, scanning the crowd to include all the villagers, in case they or their children didn’t know already, “until the line between them is blurred completely.”

The leader was starting to show his anxiety. “Hei Bai is already causing devastation and destruction. Once the solstice is here,” he wrung his hands, and his voice quavered, “there’s no telling what would happen.”

Aang stayed quiet a moment longer, then proclaimed “I will help.” There was no cheering from the villagers, only a faster murmur as they nervously checked the position of the sun in the sky. It was getting into evening; they still had some time.

Aang sat with the leader, the old wanderer who seemed to be respected as a village elder, and Iroh, which confused Zuko. What could his uncle do to help in a situation like this? Spirits were literally not of this world, and no one of this world could hope to contend with them.

The sun moved inexorably toward the horizon, and the mood in the building rapidly declined into near-panic. The shadows of the trees fell across the floor of the gathering place. Aang stood. All eyes followed him out the door and into the twilight to face the Hei Bai spirit.

The sun sank farther. The shadows deepened into dusk, and then night. Hei Bai did not appear. Zuko whispered to his uncle, “What’s happening? Where’s the spirit?”

“Hush,” hissed Iroh. “One does not rush spirits. They appear at their own choosing, and this one is clearly upset by something. Patience, nephew.” The old man’s eyes did not leave the Avatar’s back, and Zuko could feel his uncle’s tension in the air.

At the next window, Katara murmured “He shouldn’t have to do this alone. We could help.”

“To be the Avatar is to be alone,” Iroh replied softly. “All we could do was attack it, and aggression only escalates aggression. We must not interfere.”

Everyone within earshot, even a few villagers, felt the truth of Iroh’s words. The set of their shoulders changed as each of them decided to place their trust in the lone man outside.

Finally, out of the silence and stillness of the night, emerged an enormous spirit, black and white, taller than any building in the village. It took two great steps toward the main building, and turned, smashing the roof of one house near him to bits, and roared a beam of strange energy at the next, vaporizing it.

Aang stepped forward. “Hei Bai spirit! Hear me!” He stood before the raging monster, but it turned away and knocked out the side of the next house. Aang stepped in front of the monster again, and they all heard his words clearly even from a distance. “YOU MUST STOP THIS. THESE PEOPLE HAVE NOT HARMED YOU.”

The Hei Bai looked at Aang with what might have been disdain, leaned down to put his giant face in line with the Avatar, and roared his spirit energy beam directly at him. The crowd of anxious onlookers were dead silent.

But when Hei Bai closed its mouth, there Aang stood, unharmed. His eyes and hands glowed. The wind around him picked up, whipping his long gray hair about and stirring the leaves and branches of the trees. He rose from the ground in a billowing gale, reaching eye-level with the towering Hei Bai.

And then Hei Bai struck him. The massive spirit’s hand flashed faster than anyone could react, swiping clean through the Avatar’s body. The glow stopped. The wind stopped. There was a heavy thud as Aang’s limp form collapsed to the ground.

Iroh was the only one to react. He bolted from the building directly for the Hei Bai spirit. A heartbeat later, Katara and Zuko followed him. The Hei Bai saw them approach and turned toward them with open jaws. Iroh planted his feet between the Avatar’s unmoving form and the spirit’s rage, spun his hands in a strong circle, and a curved wall of flames rose to surround the vulnerable humans.

Zuko spared just a moment to realize how powerful his uncle was when he got serious, then focused his attention on the Avatar, his enemy, lying helplessly before him. Katara knelt in the dust, patting his chest and arms, but seeing no movement.

He pushed her gently aside and knelt down. He placed one hand in the center of the old man’s chest and pressed just slightly. There was a heartbeat. “He’s alive.” Katara’s frantic expression set into determination.

Iroh shouted over the roar of flames. “Then go! Get him inside!” He spun his arms again, and the back half of the wall fell away, leaving a semicircle blocking the Hei Bai from advancing. Zuko nodded, and he and Katara took Aang by the shoulders, sliding his arms behind each of their heads. They moved as quickly as they could back to the main building, and were met at the door by many helping hands.

Aang was placed on a bedroll near the door. As soon as he was able, Zuko turned back to see his uncle. The wall of flames was taller than the spirit, but touched nothing that Iroh didn’t intend. The old man made a sharp movement and stomped his foot, and the flames advanced toward Hei Bai, pushing the spirit back toward the forest. Iroh took two steps forward and made the same motion, pushing Hei Bai back more. And again. And finally, out through the broken arched gate and into the dark forest.

Darkness fell. Dusk had finally given way to the deep black of night. The wall of flames fell, and the Hei Bai spirit was nowhere to be seen. Zuko watched his uncle take slow, deliberate steps back toward the building they all hid in, and knew he was exhausted. It was no small feat to drive off a spirit. The old Firebender came in the door and immediately turned to sit beside the unconscious Avatar.

The village leader approached cautiously. “Sir,” he stammered, “y- you are a Firebender…” Iroh did not respond. With more volume but less confidence, the leader said “Do you intend to bring the Fire Nation here?”

The elder glared at his leader. “This man just saved us all from the wrath of the Hei Bai.” He scanned the crowd of uncertain faces. “We are safe tonight because of this man. Any bender who travels with the Avatar is a friend.” His words calmed his village. “We should all get some sleep.”

“You are right,” said the leader. “The spirit will not return until dusk tomorrow. We will just have to hang on until then, and hope that the Avatar recovers.”

Zuko stayed silent. If these people wanted to delude themselves that he was their friend, let them. The Fire Nation would crush their small village eventually. It was only a matter of time. Until then, all he could hope for was that the Avatar stayed unconscious. It would be a lot easier to drag him to the Fire Nation if he couldn’t fight back.

He heard his uncle comforting Sokka and Katara, completely ignoring the villagers. “He is alive, but his spirit is not here. The Hei Bai has taken it. All we can do is trust that he will return to us.” The siblings didn’t look comforted. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” he asked. “I’ll watch over him, and I’ll wake you if he comes back.”

Sokka got a determined look about him and nodded. He took his sister by the arm and led her away. Zuko sat across the Avatar’s unmoving body from his uncle. He waited for the villagers to be out of earshot and whispered “Once everyone is asleep, we’ll load him onto the bison and go home.”

“No,” his uncle said, matter-of-factly, “we won’t. That would be dishonorable.”

It was like a slap to the face. Zuko had to get the Avatar home to regain his honor, by any means necessary. But to do so was dishonorable? He had no honor - he was in exile. But still, his uncle acted honorably, he always had. Maybe Zuko could at least feel like he had some honor, if only for himself. Just until his father restored his true honor. He stood and stalked off to get his pack. If they were staying the night, he might as well sleep.

Morning came, and the Avatar did not wake. Iroh made way for the Water Tribe siblings to watch over their mentor, so he could get some sleep. Zuko drilled the new fighting forms outside. Noon came, and Aang was motionless. The villagers started to look worried, and a few with small children began congregating again in the main building. Dusk came.

In the increasing gloom of both sky and mood, a white light moved beyond the village gate. It floated into the square, slowly, almost serene. Zuko watched in wonder. The solstice might truly be a time for spirits.

As the light approached, it elongated, reaching the size of an adult human. Gasps escaped the crowd. “She’s so pretty!” “An Earthbender!” “Look at him.” “A Waterbender!” “Who could it be?”

Zuko saw a figure in the light, a tall man with long, white hair, Fire Nation formal robes, and a proud topknot. It was the same man as the statue he had seen in the Southern Air Temple. The brilliant figure turned his face toward Zuko and inclined his head just slightly, as one would to a subordinate or a junior. The light faded, and the figure vanished.

Aang sat bolt upright with a gasp. Iroh’s hand caught him, but he didn’t stay still for long. “I know how to stop Hei Bai.” He stood and dashed from the room. He called over his shoulder “I knew yesterday, but I didn’t expect the angry bear to swipe me like that!”

He scooped something off the ground near the village gate, and sat cross-legged in the center of the road, waiting. They couldn’t hear him from the building, but he tipped his head and moved his hands about like he was talking. When deep dusk had fallen, the Hei Bai spirit materialized, standing just outside the gate, staring through the arch at Aang.

The man bowed his head, and the spirit copied the movement. Before their eyes, the giant black-and-white monster dissolved into the form of a panda bear, no taller than Aang when he stood and patted its head. The bear took something from the Avatar’s hand and trundled off into the forest. A moment later, three weary and confused people stumbled out of the forest, and several people behind Zuko in the main building cried out names and thanks.

The building emptied as everyone returned to their homes, and the three returned villagers were engulfed by family and friends and led away. Aang met his companions halfway, wearing that infectious, infuriating grin. He wrapped Sokka and Katara in a bear hug and said “I bet you missed me, huh?”

Iroh chuckled and asked “So, how was your trip to the Spirit World?”

“Oh, a bit of uncooperative spirits here, a bit of past lives there,” Aang answered. He looked sidelong at Zuko. “You’ll like this though,” he said, a familiar mischievous grin taking over his features. “We’re going to the Fire Nation.”


	7. The Winter Solstice: Avatar Roku

“The Fire Nation?!” cried the siblings.

“Avatar Aang…” started Iroh.

“When do we leave?” blurted Zuko.

Aang sprinted to Nini’s side. “Grab your things. We’re leaving now,” he stated, leaving no room for argument. “We have to be there before this time tomorrow.”

Zuko sprinted to the main building to grab his and his uncle’s packs. Finally! Something in the Spirit World must have shown Aang that his destiny was to surrender to the Fire Nation. He was going home!

By the time he made it back to the bison, he caught the tail end of a conversation between his uncle and his enemy. “-continue North from there,” was Aang’s last bit, and Iroh bowed his acceptance of this plan that still took them North instead of West. What were they hiding from him? Had his uncle betrayed him?

Sokka bumped Zuko’s shoulder in his rush to get back to Nini with the rest of their packs. Aang looked over at the noise, and waved his hand saying “Come on, come on, we have no time to waste!” Zuko grumbled to himself, but tossed his pack up to Katara. His destiny would not be stopped. Either the Avatar would stay in the Fire Nation now, or he would be brought back later. Opportunity would present itself. Zuko would be waiting.

Nini flew fast. By morning, they had passed the coast. Aang had explained that one of his past lives had called him to meet in a particular location, a crescent shaped island near the edge of the Fire Nation archipelago. “I can contact past lives from almost anywhere, but I never know who I’m going to get. Sometimes, if the place has enough spiritual energy, I can ask for a particular one. But to be sure of contacting Roku,” he said, “I have to visit Roku’s temple.”

By noon, they were within sight of the Fire Navy blockade, marking the edge of Fire Nation waters. Aang jumped from his customary seat into Nini’s saddle and said “We have a few options, and none of them are good.”

Iroh nodded solemnly. “There are four ways to pass a fence: over, under, around, or through.”

“Right,” said Katara. “There are no clouds to hide in if we go over-”

“We are too close to be unseen if we go under-” Iroh continued.

Zuko mused, “To go around would take too long and put us far out of our way…”

“And through…” Sokka shuddered and motioned at the line of fully-equipped warships.

Aang cringed. “As bad as ‘through’ looks, I think it might be the best option.” He looked over his shoulder, as if confirming that the blockade was actually there and hadn’t been some elaborate mirage. “We can’t go around; there’s not time. And if we go over or under, they will see us but we will be at a disadvantage for dodging their attacks. We have to be close enough to see when we need to dodge.”

Iroh’s face set in determination. “Then we run the blockade.”

With a fierce nod, Aang resumed his pilot’s seat and patted Nini’s head. “This is gonna be scary, girl, but I’ve got your back.” She roared and flew faster.

The next few minutes were harrowing. The moment they were in ballista range, the ships began firing flaming balls of pitch at them. Aang deflected most of them with Airbending, split one in half with Earthbending, sunk two more with Waterbending, and they kept coming. They were close enough now to see the flag flying on the nearest ship. They were taking fire now from three ships away in either direction, and Nini swerved to the side to avoid a fireball Aang had missed.

At the next pitch-soaked boulder that came close, Aang stood atop Nini’s head and punched his fists together in front of him. Zuko felt the awe-inspiring wave of power that made everything else so insignificant, and saw the back of Aang’s shirt begin to emit a muted glow from what had to be more tattoos than Zuko thought the man had.

From the point between Aang’s fists, a sphere of turbulent wind spread to engulf the Flying Bison and everyone on her back. For a brief moment, Zuko felt like his very flesh would be ripped from his bones, but then they were inside the vortex, and everything was calm. A flaming boulder bounced off the wall of gale-force wind. And another.

And then they were through, and the flaming boulders were hitting the back of the air shield instead of the front, but Aang kept it up. Zuko could see the man’s jaw clenched with the effort of maintaining the Avatar State and channeling all of that power into this enormous and tightly-controlled tornado chamber.

Iroh murmured close by, soft enough that no one else heard, “Prince Zuko, remember, we must not be recognized.” There was an edge of importance in his voice. “If we are seen with the Avatar, or worse captured without him, we will both be tried for treason.”

Zuko kept his eyes on Aang’s back, but murmured his response. “I’m bringing the Avatar to the Fire Nation. My father will understand.”

“You give him too much credit,” admonished Iroh. “My brother is not the understanding type.” He gave Zuko a concerned look, but pushed no farther.

Aang looked over his shoulder at Katara. His eyes were pits of pure white light, and his voice echoed with bits of other voices. “Katara, you will have to keep the last few firebombs off us.” He shuddered with effort. “You can do it best. I believe in you.” And then his light faded, and he fell back to lay against Nini’s shoulders.

The thirteen-year-old girl looked shocked, then blinked and looked fierce. She stalked toward the back of the saddle, grabbed Zuko by the shoulder, and nearly dragged him out of the way. “Bring Aang back here into the saddle so he doesn’t fall off.” She took a strong stance in the place Zuko had just been sitting. A strong sweep of her arms called water from the ocean below to her. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that she was thirteen. She was a master Waterbender in the ocean.

Another flaming ball of pitch and rock approached. Katara swirled her arms wide and a column of water emerged from the ocean to swallow it whole. They moved farther from the ships. Now, only the one closest, with the familiar banner, could reach them. Another firebomb launched. Katara sliced it in two and it fell to both sides.

The ship launched another firebomb. It was aimed high, trying for maximum distance, but it fell just a few yards short of Nini’s tail. Katara released her water back into the ocean; it wasn’t needed anymore. When she turned around, she spotted Zuko staring at her. “At least your uncle grabbed Aang…”

Iroh laid the Avatar gently in the center of the saddle and said, “He’s just resting.” He pulled one of the packs over to act as a pillow. “I think he’ll wake soon.”

Sokka leaned over the front of the saddle. “I just hope Nini knows where we’re going,” he mused. The bison groaned at him. “Alright, alright, I trust you.” She huffed and kept flying.

They started seeing islands not too long after that. Mostly tiny spits of sandbar that only barely left the water. One or two with a lone palm tree clinging to the sand. Aang woke and ate travel bread, and took Nini’s reins again. The sun inched closer to the horizon.

Zuko could no longer call it anything but evening. The sky had lost the cheery blue color in favor of a pale orange one, and the sun sat directly in front of them instead of above. Finally, Aang shouted, “There it is!” and guided Nini down.

The island was an active volcano. Zuko saw rivers of lava spiderwebbed over the whole, tiny, crescent-shaped hellscape. The caldera at the peak of the mountain spewed smoke and ash. One tiny bit of sheltered beach remained on the whole island, on one point of the crescent and directly below a secondary peak. On that peak, protected from the worst of the volcano’s rage, sat the only building that was visible on the island. It was five floors or more, all crimson and gold, a tall tower of pointed corners and angled roofs, one of the ancient Fire Temples.

Nini brought them in for a hard landing on the sheltered beach beneath the temple. As soon as everyone was off her back, she groaned and layed down on her side. Aang stroked her chin and said “Good job, girl. Your dad would be so proud.” She sighed.

Iroh shielded his eyes and gazed up at the temple. “I don’t see any guards.”

Sokka followed the old man’s gaze. “Maybe it’s abandoned.”

Aang shouldered a pack and started up the disused path away from the beach. “It’s almost sundown,” he reminded them. “We’d better hurry.”

The group trudged as quickly as they could through the bumpy pumice fields of cooled lava. The path to the temple led to a stone bridge over a small gap between the main, lava-encased island and the tiny peak. The gap was what kept the Temple safe.

Their feet touched smooth flagstones for the first time as they approached the door. The first room was a great decorative chamber. When their eyes had adjusted to the gloom indoors, they spotted five crimson-robed figures with tall, pointed hats. One of them took a step forward, distinguishing himself as the leader, and intoned, “We are the Fire Sages. Guardians of the Temple of the Avatar.”

Aang smiled and started toward them. “Great! I’m the Avatar,” he said without the slightest reservation or hesitation.

“We know,” said the Sage. He inhaled sharply and sent a blast of fire directly toward Aang’s head.

The old Avatar took a strong, Earthbending stance and caught the blast on his forearms, splitting it and letting it dissipate to the sides. “GO!” he called, “I’ll hold them off.” He quickly fired off two blasts of his own, and deflected three more.

Iroh dragged Zuko by the sleeve into a side corridor, following the Water Tribe siblings. No one knew where they were going. Out of nowhere, Aang slid sideways into the hallway in front of them and said “Follow me!” before running off.

Sokka called ahead while running full speed, “Do you know where you’re going?” The group took another turn down a side passage.

“Nope!” said Aang, “only been here once before, and I never came down these hallways.” He took another turn, but quickly reappeared with a start. “Wrong way!”

He ran past them back the way they had come, and they followed. Zuko heard a voice behind them say “Come back!” Fat chance.

They took two more random turns, and hit a dead end. Zuko spun to face the hallway. Maybe they had lost him. But when the crimson-robed old man turned the corner, Zuko took a ready stance.

The man held up his hands and said “I don’t want to fight you! I am a friend.” He took two steps forward, and Zuko tensed. He saw Aang move just slightly, and thought he smelled the brimstone from outside just a bit more strongly. But the lone Fire Sage dropped to his knees and placed his palms and forehead on the ground in a deep, formal bow to someone of massive power and importance. Zuko paused, startled. The Sage said, “I know why you’re here, Avatar.”

Aang dropped his arms. “You do?”

“Yes,” the Sage said. He raised his head and stood. “You wish to speak to Avatar Roku. I can take you to him.” Aang stood still, with a suspicious expression. The Sage sighed and touched one of the lamps on the wall. The sconce slid to the side to reveal a small hole. The Sage pressed his palm to the hole and sent a tight stream of fire into the wall. With a soft hiss, the wall panel beside them popped backward and slid aside, revealing the cooled lava walls of a secret passage. “This way.”

They heard shouting and footsteps from back down the hallway. Aang debated for another second, and then plunged into the dark passage. The kids followed, then Iroh, and lastly the rogue Fire Sage, who shut the wall behind them.

In the darkness, Iroh, Aang, Zuko, and the Sage all summoned small flames in their hands to serve as lanterns. The passage sloped downward for a while, and a red glow outlined the end of this section of tunnel. The Sage moved to the front of the group to lead the way. “My name is Shyu, Avatar. May I know yours?”

Aang followed Shyu down the slope. “Shyu is a good name. Mine is Aang.” He paused for a moment. “Shyu, would you be related to Shanyo?”

The Sage glanced back, surprised to hear the name. “Yes, Avatar Aang. He was my grandfather.” They kept moving forward. “May I ask how you know his name?”

Aang smiled. “I met him here, when I was just a boy. He was a friend.” Zuko could see the effect the praise had on the Sage. “When did the Sages become tools of the Fire Nation?”

They emerged into a cavern of lava rivers and pumice stone paths. Shyu sounded embarrassed. “After the arrival of the comet that would be renamed after Fire Lord Sozin, and the utter destruction of the Air Temples, the Sages awaited the arrival of a new Water Tribe Avatar. When they heard nothing after twenty years, they thought perhaps the raids on the Southern Tribe had succeeded in killing the new Avatar, and awaited an Earthbender.”

The group began to climb a steep spiral staircase. Shyu seemed lost in his story. “When no Earthbender came, and Fire Lord Azulon threatened the Temple with destruction, my father and grandfather, along with the other sages, were forced to follow him.” He shook his head sadly. “I never wanted to serve the Fire Lord. When we learned you were coming,” his eyes had a steely quality, “I knew I would have to betray the other Sages.”

They reached the top of the stairs, and Aang put a kind hand on Shyu’s shoulder. “Thank you for helping me.” Some of the tension faded from the Sage’s shoulders, and he nodded and turned to the trick door above them. It was a heavy tile, and when he pushed it aside, they could see an extravagant room with a vaulted ceiling. This had to be the top floor of the Temple.

Shyu bowed and made way for Aang to go first. The Airbender poked his gray-haired head over the tile, looked around for a moment, and then climbed out of view. A few seconds later, his tattooed hand plunged back into the passage. “Come on, one at a time. Zuko, you first.”

Shyu smiled and pulled Zuko closer by the sleeve. Zuko yanked his green sleeve from the traitor’s hand, and reached up to grab hold of Aang. With a heave, he was pulled from the darkness and deposited on an ornate tile floor. The room was classic Fire Nation, all crimson enamel and gold inlay. The dragon carvings adorning the pillars all had massive rubies set in their eyes. The great door in the near wall was set with a great bronze mechanism shaped like a five-headed dragon with its mouths agape, standing before a giant Fire Nation emblem.

Zuko heard Sokka behind him exclaim “Woah…”

The sound of scraping tile echoed in the empty room, and Aang stepped forward. “You think this is cool, you should see the inside.” He planted his feet, and Zuko took a small step backward. With a quick breath and “Ho,” Aang spawned five small candle-like flames in the air before him. They hovered where they came into existence, until Aang made a slow wave with his arms and pushed them into each of the mouths of the door dragon.

The door mechanism creaked and banged, the Fire Nation emblem tipped to the side, and the dragon split down the middle. The great double-doors swung outward to reveal intricate designs on the walls and floor of the inner sanctuary, inlaid with gold and rubies. A figure in the shadow of the back wall captured Zuko’s attention. He stepped forward to try to see it better.

He heard Aang chuckle beside him. “Well,” said the old Avatar, “he clearly wants to speak to you, too.” He put his hand on Zuko’s back, and pulled them both inside past the doors. The great mechanism rumbled again, and the doors closed.

With the light from outside cut off, it took Zuko a few seconds to make out anything in the dark. The first thing he saw was a shaft of dim light filtering through a massive ruby set high in the wall above the door. The other end of the red-tinted ray fell on the nose of a gold statue of a man in Fire Nation formal robes, with long hair and a proud topknot held up by a hairpiece that reminded Zuko of the formal hairpieces the royal family wore to events.

Aang sat in the center of the room, and motioned Zuko to join him. “Now, we wait for sunset, when the light falls on his forehead, at the point of the Crown chakra, the center of cosmic and spiritual energy.” He tapped the top of his own head to illustrate it for Zuko. So Zuko sat, facing Aang, staring at the man who could be the catalyst for returning Zuko’s honor but for whatever reason refused. Aang stared back without a word.

“Why can’t you just surrender?” Zuko blurted in frustration. “Why can’t you just be my prisoner and go to the Fire Nation and let everything go back to being good?”

“Is that what would happen?” asked Aang.

“Of course it is!” insisted the Prince. “The other nations would submit, the War would be over, and I would be Fire Lord like I should be.”

Aang sat stoically. “And what would happen to the other benders?”

Zuko thought for only a moment before the answer came back to him from his school days. “Enemy combatants would be imprisoned, others would be taught their place and allowed to live in it.”

“Others?” the Avatar asked calmly. “You mean the people whose parents are indefinitely imprisoned? Would they go quietly?”

“If they didn’t, they would be enemy combatants, and imprisoned beside their parents.”

“So,” Aang summed up, “the choices are watch your parents be taken or killed in silence, or fight back and be killed with them?”

“Yeah.”

Aang shook his head. “Does that sound like a peaceful, balanced world to you?”

“Well,” started Zuko, “it would be once everyone learned their place.”

A flash of light filled the room as the beam of red struck the top of the statue. Zuko almost jumped to his feet. There was a third figure sitting in the room with them, ethereal and transparent, with flowing formal Fire Nation robes and long white hair. “It’s good to see you, Aang.”

Aang pushed one fist into the other palm and bowed his head. “You, too, Roku.” He smiled at Zuko. “This is Avatar Roku, the Avatar before me, and the one from the time of your predecessor, Fire Lord Sozin.”

Zuko gaped at the spirit of Roku. He looked old, tired, and somewhat familiar. The ghost nodded in greeting at him and said, “As we have very little time, I will begin by asking you, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, if you believe that what your nation does is just.”

It was not a question Zuko had expected, much less one he had ever needed to ponder. Something about the gravity of the question, coming from a spirit that had known his great-grandfather before the War, made him stop and think.

Avatar Aang further complicated things when he added, “The ends never justify unjust means.”

Avatar Roku said, “I do not ask about what your nation wants to do, but what it does. If it is truly your destiny to rule one day, this is a question for which you must find your own answer. It will determine what kind of Fire Lord you are, and how history will remember you.” His ghostly eyes bored holes in Zuko. “Sozin’s Comet is returning this year. Will you use it to destroy? Or will you hold yourself better?”

Aang whispered, “So it’s this year, huh?”

Roku smiled at him. “Kyoshi saw it three times in her life, she has yet to be wrong.” He took a deep breath. “The solstice is ending. You will face a great threat beyond that door.”

Aang’s eyes and tattoos began to glow, and Roku vanished. In a voice overlaid with bits of many others, Aang said, “The man you called Zhao was at the blockade, and is now here.” He stood and moved toward the door. “Stay behind me, and he may not recognize you.” Zuko stood and obeyed. Aang pushed open the door.

“Fire!” said a commanding voice. Aang stepped one foot back and stopped a torrent of fire before any of it reached the sanctuary door. The flames gathered in a large ball, pulsing and flickering like a bonfire. Zuko heard Shyu breathe “Avatar Aang…”

Aang brought his hands in a circle, condensing the flames into an orb of white-hot energy, and then threw it forward in an arc, striking everyone in the room with a knife of fire against their stomachs. Zuko thought about his uncle, and leaned around the Avatar to try to find him. Instead, he saw Commander Zhao, horror-stricken by the sheer power now levied against him. For just a moment, Zuko and Zhao locked eyes, and Zuko felt his stomach drop, knowing that he had indeed been recognized.

It didn’t last long. Aang stomped and crashed his fist toward the floor, and a wide crack opened. Faintly, Zuko heard Shyu say “The Avatar is going to destroy the temple! We have to get out of here!” The faint replies from both Katara’s voice and Iroh’s echoed each other: not without the others.

Aang shot a furious glare at the Fire Sages to send them scrambling away before he drew his hand upward, pulling lava from the foundation levels all the way through the temple to the top floor. Commander Zhao and his soldiers fled the destruction. The Avatar took a deep breath. His hands spun in a decreasing circle, ending palms-down at his waist. His tattoos lost their glow. He swayed slightly as the temple began to lean.

Iroh approached with wary steps and took the Avatar by the arm. He led the exhausted man and all the children to a hole that had fallen open in the outer wall. “I just hope Nini heard the destruction and is already on her way,” he said under his breath. They stood there long enough that Zuko was starting to think they would be doomed.

But then, from below the arched shingles of the lower level’s roof, Nini rosee like a raft in a storm. Katara yelped and Sokka whooped as they jumped to her saddle. Iroh picked up Aang and motioned for Zuko to go first. Finally, they were all on the bison. Iroh cried, “Nini, go! Get us out of here!” The bison swung her tail and the broken temple pulled away.


	8. The Waterbending Scroll

Nini landed on the edge of a secluded glen, a gorgeous shallow pond at the base of a tall waterfall with high cliffs on three sides and a dense copse of trees on the fourth. Aang smiled wide. With a day of rest after they left Roku’s temple, he had been right back to his sickeningly cheery self. “This is perfect, Sokka. I’m glad you spotted this on your map.” He leapt to the ground. “There’s plenty of space for Nini to get a bath, and lots of space and water for us to work on both Waterbending and Firebending safely, without being seen.”

The Water Tribe boy beamed under the praise. Then he thought through what his mentor had said. “Wait, so while you guys are all playing in the water, I’m supposed to be hard at work picking mud out of a giant bison’s feet?”

Aang smiled and joked, “Mud and bugs.” He patted Sokka’s shoulder. “You won’t like this anyway. You’d just be bored. But there’s a port market nearby. Maybe we can go shopping later, see if we can’t find you a whetstone for your boomerang?”

Iroh piped up, “And I can finally replace the lotus tile I lost for my Pai Sho set!” Zuko stared at his uncle, but didn’t speak. He hadn’t realized that some of their meager pack space had been claimed by a stupid Pai Sho set.

Sokka seemed mollified. “Okay,” he said, and picked up a branch from the ground to help him scrub between Nini’s toes.

For the next two hours, Aang and Katara stood in the shallow pool trading a bubble of water back and forth, and Zuko stood on a small sandbar island trying to best his uncle with Firebending. The new set of forms was coming a lot easier to him now, and using Firebending with them seemed natural, like an extension of his arms instead of a forced attack. Even so, he never seemed to be able to catch the old man off guard. The more he tried, the angrier he got, and the easier Iroh seemed to read him.

Aang’s voice beside him startled him. “Watch his feet.” When had the Airbender snuck up on him? Zuko barely deflected a blast of fire Iroh had sent just as Aang had spoken, no doubt a cheap blow while Zuko was distracted. He locked his eyes on his uncle again, paying closer attention to his stance.

Every time Zuko thought he had an opening, Iroh squared up his feet and drove the flames outward away from him. Zuko tried again, and saw the shift in his uncle’s feet again as he grounded himself and allowed the blast to break across his blocking arms. That was an Earthbending move.

Some instinct drove Zuko to try something new. He sent his blasts toward his uncle’s chest, like he had been taught, but just as Iroh squared up his feet, Zuko spun his heel along the ground, streaming flames outward in a semicircle to cut at his uncle’s ankles. Iroh danced up on his toes, nimbly stepping over the ankle strike while dodging between the usual blasts.

“Good, Prince Zuko!” said Iroh, falling out of his fighting stance. “There is always something to learn, if only you keep your eyes open.”

“Does that mean we’re done for today?” asked Zuko, wiping sweat from his brow.

“It means,” said Aang with a hearty clap to Zuko’s shoulder, “it’s shopping time.”

The port town was definitely not the nicest place they had been. The streets were bare dirt with potholes and puddles splashing mud on travellers. The buildings and stalls were old and unkempt, often with rotting or broken boards. Several ships at the lakeside dock hadn’t even bothered to disembark their wares, but were enticing customers onboard instead with colorful signs and criers. They passed one stall with so many kinds of musical instruments that Zuko couldn’t name them all. He heard someone in the distance shouting about cabbages. A man at the end of a gangplank made silly rhymes about nations and bargains. “Oh! You there,” he said upon seeing Zuko and the group, “I can see from your clothing that you’re world-travelling types-”

“Not interested,” interrupted Zuko as he passed. But he noticed Sokka and Katara take interest in an iguanaparrot on the deck and turn to board. He rolled his eyes and kept walking.

All the way down the dock, Zuko tried to keep his uncle focused on getting things like food and dry-stored supplies, but the old man insisted on stopping into several trinket shops to look for a lotus tile. The merchants always said they didn’t have one, but Iroh inevitably bought something anyway. When Zuko was handed a Tsungi horn to carry, though, he finally said, “That’s enough. We’re going back to camp.” He didn’t really care if his uncle followed him; he started walking back the way they had come.

He heard someone in the distance shouting about cabbages. They passed the ship with the iguanaparrot again, but it was empty. Even the crier on the dock had gone. Sounds of yelling and combat rang in Zuko’s ears. Never a dull day when one travelled near the Avatar. “Uncle, this way!” he called over his shoulder, and started running, with the Tsungi horn flailing in one hand.

When the two Firebenders reached the end of the dock, they came upon a group of what were obviously pirates, bandaging wounds and gathering their thrown weapons from the edge of the forest beside the main river delta. The sound of their approach drew all eyes up from their tasks. A gruff pirate with long hair and the same iguanaparrot perched on his shoulder squinted at Zuko. “About sixteen, scar on his left eye…” A few of the other pirates’ eyes widened when their captain called, “Grab them!”

Iroh caught one man full in the face with a fireball before the whole area was filled with smoke. The next thing Zuko heard was a thud and his uncle’s “oof,” and then a blinding pain and darkness.

‘A traitor General and a banished Prince…” The sneering voice penetrated the haze and ache in Zuko’s brain. “I thought I might find you two if I followed the Avatar off that island. It’s a shame you won’t get to see me capture him.”

Zuko opened his eyes. It was morning. How long had he been knocked out? He was standing, tied at the wrists to a tree. His uncle was tied to the next tree, and was wide awake. And before the two of them paced Commander Zhao. Zuko scoffed. “I have already captured him. He has been in my custody for weeks.”

Zhao’s eyes widened in mock amazement. “You, a teenager, captured a one-hundred-and-twelve-year-old, fully realized Avatar?” He stared straight into Zuko’s eyes. “Then I suppose destroying a Fire Temple, setting an entire ocean rig of Earthbender prisoners free, and damaging my ship in Kyoshi Bay were all your ideas.”

This was clearly bait, so Zuko ignored it. “The Avatar is mine. When I bring him to my father, I will be welcomed home with honor, and my rightful place as Crown Prince will be restored!”

Zhao sneered at his captive. “If your father wanted you home at all,” he said with deliberate slowness, “he would have let you return by now, Avatar or no Avatar.” Zuko knew he was being goaded, but Zhao knew which points to target. “But in his eyes you are a failure and a disgrace to the Fire Nation.”

For the first time, Zuko noticed the soldiers behind Zhao, and the pirates that had captured him behind them. He couldn’t let Zhao’s insults go unanswered. “That’s not true!” he insisted.

“You have the scar to prove it.” The Commander was infuriatingly calm.

Zuko pulled at the ropes around his wrists. “Maybe you’d like one to match!”

Iroh’s voice was barely audible. “Zuko, no…”

The mocking tone was back with a vengeance as Zhao laughed and said, “Is that a challenge?”

Zuko felt the blood rise in his ears. He couldn’t stop now. “An Agni Kai. Right now.” Zhao was too much of a traditionalist to let a challenge go.

As predicted, the Commander glared at him and said, “Very well.” A quick arrow of fire cut Zuko’s bonds, and another released Iroh. “It’s a shame your father won’t be here to watch me humiliate you, but I guess your uncle will do.”

Zuko rubbed his wrists to restore bloodflow to his tingling fingers. His uncle stepped closer and started helping Zuko out of his shirt, in the tradition of an Agni Kai. Zuko almost stopped him - not all the forms would be able to be observed here anyway - but he heard Iroh mumble under his breath, “Remember your basics. They are your greatest weapons.”

The reply Zuko gave was more of a growl. “I refuse to let him win.” He pulled his arms free of his shirt and stepped away from the trees, toward the open space of the riverbank. He stood silently, toe to toe with his opponent, and they both turned and marched away, placing themselves exactly sixty paces from each other. Zhao’s contingent of soldiers positioned themselves in a line at the trees, between Iroh and the duel. The pirates arrayed themselves haphazardly against the shore of the river. A few of them looked ready to jump in the water if things got too heated.

Zuko knelt in the mud and took six steadying breaths. He stood and turned. Zhao stood half a second later. They both took the ready stance of a Firebender. Zuko watched and waited for an opening.

Zhao blinked, and Zuko kicked flames at his face. The Commander stepped and deflected the blast while sending a punch toward Zuko’s chest. They traded distance shots easily as they closed the distance between them. They reached each other in the center, and the blows were physical now, punches and kicks that trailed fire behind them to prevent the other from blocking. Zhao was bigger and stronger than Zuko, but the younger had the advantage of speed and agility. Zhao’s kicks aimed low, seeking to sweep Zuko off his feet for the quick victory. Zuko danced above them, using techniques from his swordsmanship lessons as a kid instead of Firebending forms to always find a place to plant his feet.

Zhao’s base was not as solid as what Iroh had used against Zuko in their last lesson. The Commander kept his weight lifted and mobile enough for the powerful spin-kicks and vertical leaps that dominated the advanced Firebending forms. Zuko just had to wait for him to try one of those, and he could slide beneath him.

Zuko stood his ground against a flaming punch, and took the blow directly to his chest. He let himself stumble backward two steps. Zhao’s smug smile was a thrill. Zuko deflected two more blasts before letting one strike the ground near his feet. He jumped backward on one foot, leaning awkwardly to hide the fact that his foot hadn’t lost its root. He let himself fall onto his back, keeping that one foot flat and his weight ready to move.

Zhao leapt high into the air, aiming a powerful fire blast at Zuko’s good eye. Everything slowed down. The blast of flames was so bright, coming for him, ready to disfigure and dishonor him, ready to banish him. Suffering will be your teacher… But I have suffered. His father’s voice sneered and mocked, Then fight for your honor. Zuko felt the flutter in his chest. I am your loyal son, he pleaded, knowing it was no use. The outcome of this was decided long ago.

But is it just? Zuko snapped to attention. His foot was planted, ready to move at his command. He spun himself around, feet in the air, creating a wall of fire between him and Zhao. When the Commander’s foot breached the wall, Zuko knocked it aside. Zhao’s form was unbalanced. The Master Firebender’s punch flew wild, and the man landed hard on his side. Zuko stood above him. He raised his fist to deliver a simple punch, the traditional facial scar and no more.

But is it just? Zhao stared at Zuko with shock and fear. “Do it!” he insisted, his voice wavering. Zuko decided. He punched fire at the ground beside Zhao’s head. The Commander flinched, and then realized he had not been burned. He looked at the scorch mark on the ground, evidence of his defeat and the searing heat that would have burned through his eyelid and left him blind in that eye. “That’s it?” he demanded of Zuko. “Your father raised a coward.”

Zuko brought his hand back to his sides with a deep breath. “If you get in my way again,” he growled, “I promise I won’t hold back.” He turned to retrieve his shirt from his uncle.

The sound of a sharp breath behind him stopped him short, and he spun his head in time to see Iroh jump between him and Zhao’s flaming foot. The fat old man simply grabbed the Commander’s kick with his palm. Not a lick of fire passed his wrist. All momentum stopped there. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, Iroh sent Commander Zhao sprawling on his back in the mud. “So this is how the great Commander Zhao acts in defeat.” He shook his head. “Disgraceful.” He glared at Zhao in disgust. “Even in exile, my nephew is more honorable than you.”

Zuko looked to see if his uncle was just tormenting the defeated Commander, or if he meant what he said, but he couldn’t tell. His uncle turned away and pulled Zuko with him. With the General leading the way, the pirates and the soldiers scrambled to make a path to let them through.

Now that Zuko’s head was clearing, he was worried. What had drawn Commander Zhao to them in the first place? He had been at the blockade, just when they had passed. He had known they were involved with the release of the Earthbenders from the ocean rig. And now, pirates had recognized Zuko and, from what he guessed, alerted Zhao on the spot. Now that the military man knew the Avatar was alive, so did the Fire Lord, without a doubt. Perhaps Zhao was the one assigned to capture him. There was a chance that Zuko happened to be in the right place to get swept up in this.

They had to get back to Aang, and get out of here. Maybe head inland. Their pursuers had followed them by ship so far. Maybe they could lose them over the landlocked Earth Kingdom states.

And what had turned the pirates against them in the first place? They had been simple merchants on their ship when Zuko had passed the first time. The second time, they had clearly just run off a group of people who had escaped despite their best efforts, and that was more than likely Aang and the Water Tribe siblings.

He was tying the clasps of his shirt as he and his uncle emerged from the copse of trees into the secluded waterfall glen. Aang was finishing up strapping Nini’s saddle to her back. Sokka was tightening the drawstring on a full pack of bread. Katara was sitting on a rock reading a very fancy-looking scroll with a Water Tribe insignia on the end. Everyone but Katara looked up when the Firebenders appeared.

Zuko fumed. They weren’t taking any of this seriously. “We have to go. Now.”

Iroh spoke more calmly. “Commander Zhao recognized us at the Fire Temple, and tracked us here through the pirates. He and his soldiers are down by the river and will find us without much trouble.” He glanced at Katara, who still wasn’t paying attention. “Did anything happen that we would want to know about?”

Aang’s face flashed surprise, shock, worry, and decision. “Katara found an ancient Southern Tribe relic, a Waterbending scroll with forms she can’t learn anywhere else. The pirates had stolen it from a rich Earth Kingdom noble, so she stole it back.” He tossed their packs up into the saddle. “Clearly, they were not as impressed with the symmetry of it as I was.” He went quickly to Katara’s side, and motioned for Sokka to finish loading their new supplies on Nini. “Katara,” he said gently, “we need to go. That scroll is missed, and we will have to outrun the Fire Nation to keep it.”

Katara rolled up her Waterbending scroll and hugged it to her chest. “Then let’s get going.”

They could see the small fleet of Fire Navy ships as they flew over the harbor. The lead ship started turning to follow them before Nini had reached the cover of the mountains.


	9. Jet

“We should get out of the air for a while,” said Aang, eyeing the thick forest below them. They were farther inland than they had been, so the leaves on the trees all had ruddy, rusty colors instead of the unbroken green that was so common on the coast, even in Winter. The red seemed comfortable to Zuko, so he had no objections. They were supposed to be hiding anyway.

Nini crashed through the tightly-woven canopy of branches and found space to land in the fallen leaves. With practiced efficiency, everyone disembarked and began their tasks - Zuko gathered wood for the fire, Sokka unloaded packs and supplies, Katara ranged to look for edible plants and fruits, and Aang and Iroh prowled the perimeter to scout for danger and confer about their next course of action. It only took a short time for everything to look cozy and well-prepared.

An animal shriek pierced the afternoon calm of their camp. Zuko and Sokka were the only ones still with Nini in the tree-lined cove, so the two of them leapt up together to investigate the sound. It wasn’t hard to track the distressed screeching back to a tall tree with ropes tied off at the base. Zuko looked up toward the sounds, and spotted three spherical metal traps with two hogmonkeyes and a lizardcrow suspended high above the ground. He stepped on a Lychee nut as he approached. Glancing around, the small red fruit was everywhere, scattered over the ground like bait.

Zuko gave Sokka a look, and Sokka threw his boomerang. The curved piece of metal flew in an arc higher and higher until it sliced through the ropes holding the traps. All three came crashing to the ground. Sokka looked worried for the animals inside, but they all clambered from the broken slats of metal and vanished into the forest.

Aang and Iroh barged through the trees, but stopped when they examined the area and discovered that Zuko had everything under control. They really should give him more responsibility than they did. He was destined to be Fire Lord; he could handle it. Aang looked approvingly at the broken traps, and said, “Good work, Sokka.”

Iroh approached and took a closer look at the traps themselves. “This looks like Fire Nation metalwork,” he said with a grimace.

Zuko couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Neither of them was saying a word about his contributions! Aang looked around at the Lychee nuts scattered over the ground and said “These were snares. Someone will be back to collect their catches.”

Sokka nodded and said, “We should move out then; this is too close to camp.” Zuko glared at the boy. This Water Tribe peasant was two years younger than him. How was it that he got credit for this, and not Zuko? This was just like all of his Firebending classes back home. He had always been overlooked, all the credit given to Azula for nothing but being born lucky.

Aang nodded. “Very pragmatic, Sokka. Go back to camp and start getting everything packed up. Iroh and I will scout ahead along the path to the East. When Katara returns, you kids can follow us.” He patted both boys’ shoulders. “Rely on each other. Protect each other.”

Zuko glared, but nodded. It was no use fighting him. He always got his way anyway. The Avatar seemed destined to get what he wanted. Sokka started off into the trees, and Zuko was forced to follow quickly.

Back at the small campsite, the two boys got to work, and by the time Katara returned with a bag of local plant life, it was almost impossible to tell they had been there. Sokka filled his sister in on their discovery, and their departure, and the three were on their way with Nini in tow.

Trudging along a forest path with a Flying Bison walking behind was… tedious. Nini was the master of the skies, one of the original Airbenders, but she was also a six-ton, six-legged bison. She was not quiet, and could not keep up with them if their pace was anything faster than a stately walk. Add to that the fact that she would be recognised on the spot if they met any traveller on the road, Fire Nation or not, and Zuko found himself very twitchy. He tried to hear the forest sounds to predict encounters, but couldn’t hear anything over Nini’s footsteps and breathing.

So when the three of them stumbled into a roadside camp with a dozen Fire Nation soldiers, the ambushers were just as surprised as the ambushees. For a few seconds, nothing moved. Then everything did.

One of the soldiers shouted “Grab them!” and two more picked up net-launchers. Why did they have net-launchers? Katara pulled the water from her travel pouch and smacked the heads of three soldiers at once. Two got back up. Sokka knocked one soldier’s sword from his hand with a well-placed boomerang, and aimed his whalebone knife at the man’s chest. Zuko picked up the lost sword and cut the bowstrings on several bows laying ready for use on a box. He then dodged a fireball and reminded himself not to Firebend.

The net-launchers launched, and one caught Sokka. His knife wasn’t sturdy enough to cut braided metal. Katara blocked the net aimed at her with a hastily-summoned pillar of ice, but she couldn’t melt it fast enough to defend against the two swordsmen that came up beside her. Zuko deflected half a dozen more fireballs, but was caught off-guard by a club-wielding soldier behind him. His ears rang. His vision spun, and he found himself on his knees. No, not again… I can’t lose.

Fight for your honor!

Zuko shook his head and looked up at the soldier who had dropped him. He would show this man who he was dealing with. But the man was upside down. There was a hook-sword on his ankle. There was a boy wielding the hook-sword. There were other strange children in the encampment. Sokka had been released from the net. What is going on?!

In moments, every soldier was sitting or prone, tied at wrists and ankles, and gagged. The area was flooded with children and teenagers, all dressed in carved wood armor and torn bits of old clothing. Mister Hook-swords sauntered up to Katara and said, “Hey.”

The young Waterbender blushed and turned her head. “Hi…” Zuko scoffed. She really was just a kid.

He looked around, assessing the strength of the Fire Nation unit, the obvious stores of supplies, and the organization - or lack of - in the ragtag group of forest children. He turned skeptically to Mister Hook-swords. “You took out a whole army unit almost single-handed.”

Sokka looked embarrassed. “Army? There were only like, twenty guys.” 

Mister Hook-swords stood proud and took the compliment. “My name is Jet,” said the lanky, overconfident teen, “and these are my Freedom Fighters.” He pointed to each one in turn. “Sneers,” a sneering kid of maybe ten with what looked like an old injury to his arm, “Longshot,” a thin and stoic older teen with a bow bigger than he was and a quiver of arrows he was currently retrieving from the campsite, “Smellerbee,” a graceful tween with short hair and a shortsword, “The Duke,” a much younger child wearing a salvaged metal helmet, “and Pipsqueak,” a very large individual with a full-sized log slung across his back.

Sokka was closest to The Duke and Pipsqueak, who were standing side-by-side. He turned his head to see them better, and laughed. “Haha, Pipsqueak,” he said, looking at The Duke. “That’s a funny name.”

The much larger Pipsqueak leaned over Sokka, and growled “You think my name is funny?”

For a moment, Sokka was taken aback, but then he laughed harder. “It’s hilarious!” For a tense moment, Pipsqueak eyed the Water Tribe boy. Sokka stubbornly kept laughing, and finally, Pipsqueak laughed, too. Zuko heaved a sigh.

Katara swooned over the roguish teen leader. “Umm, thanks for saving us, Jet.” She seemed to be having trouble looking up from her own feet. “We’re lucky you were there.”

“I should be thanking you,” insisted the forest boy. “We were waiting to ambush those soldiers all morning, we just needed the right distraction.” Zuko gritted his teeth at the carelessness of the Fire Nation soldiers. “And then you guys stumbled in.” To be so oblivious of their surroundings that a group of literal children could watch them all day, and then another group of children could stumble in unannounced…

Zuko tuned back in to the conversation at the words “blasting jelly” and Jet’s jubilous “That’s a great score!” He examined the boy’s face to find his intent. What was he so excited about? How was the blasting jelly going to help him and hurt his enemies? “Let’s get all this back to the hideout.”

“You guys have a hideout?” Sokka was practically jumping with excitement about what new gadgets the Freedom Fighters might have devised to hide their base in the forest.

Jet grinned and raised one eyebrow, obviously recognizing Sokka’s eagerness. “You wanna see it?”

Sokka squealed “Yes!”

Katara breathed “Yes, we wanna see it!”

Zuko followed silently as Jet led the group into the deeper forest. This kid was most certainly an enemy combatant. The fact that he hadn’t recognized the Prince yet was a minor miracle.

Without warning, the forest boy stopped and proclaimed, “We’re here.”

Sokka looked around, beginning to be disappointed. “Where? There’s nothing here.”

Jet held a rope out to Zuko, with a loop and slipknot on the end. “Hold this,” the forest boy said with the same mischief Zuko had come to expect from Aang. He took the rope by the loop, and was immediately yanked upward by the hand. The slipknot tightened down on Zuko’s palm, and he cried out in shock and pain. The trees flew by as he ascended into the forest canopy.

After a few seconds, the rope stopped pulling, and Zuko found himself hanging by the arm in front of a landing platform of sorts, really just a cobbled-together wood treehouse. He reached a leg forward and tested it with his weight before he was comfortable stepping up onto it to release the pressure of the rope on his throbbing hand.

Sokka was the next one up, and jumped recklessly onto the ramshackle platform. Jet followed, with Katara pressed to his side and arms wrapped over his shoulders. Zuko eyed the forest boy. He would keep an eye on this one.

Sokka dashed onto the nearest rope bridge, gawking at the elaborate treehouse that stretched from tree trunk to massive tree trunk across at least an acre of forest. “This is awesome!”

Katara stared in awe after her brother. “It’s beautiful up here.”

“It’s beautiful,” agreed Jet, “but more importantly, the Fire Nation can’t find us.” Zuko’s heart soared. He would have to find a way to share this information.

Smellerbee landed with a soft thud behind them. “They would love to find you, wouldn’t they, Jet?”

“It’s not gonna happen, Smellerbee,” Jet insisted, with an odd edge in his voice that made Zuko turn to look at him again.

“Why does the Fire Nation want to find you?” asked Zuko, forcing a tone of ignorance.

Jet waved his hand nonchalantly and replied, “I guess you could say I’ve been causing them a little trouble.” He looked Zuko in the eyes, an obvious attempt to connect with him. Zuko was not impressed. “See, they took over a nearby Earth Kingdom town a few years back.”

Pipsqueak’s deep voice piped up as he landed on the platform, forcing the others to begin making their way onto the rope bridge to make space. “We’ve been ambushin’ their troops, cutting off their supply lines, and doing anything we can to mess with ‘em.”

“One day, we’ll drive the Fire Nation out of here for good and free that town,” said Jet. Good luck with that. The group of kids had surprised and overwhelmed a small unit, but an occupying force was altogether different. It would take major carnage to defeat the Fire Nation troops completely.

Jet led them on a tour of the tree hideout, sharing sob stories for each of the Freedom Fighters. Dead parents, burned villages, orphaned too young to remember how. Many had scars as wrinkled and jarring as Zuko’s eye, though most covered them well. Zuko and the siblings were shown to rooms where they could sleep for the night, and while Katara and Sokka were very keen on the idea of a decent night’s rest in a bed, Zuko was more practical.

“The Avatar and my uncle will be waiting for us. They were ahead of us on the road, remember?” He was anxious to be back in sight of his prisoner. “We have to leave, tonight.”

Sokka looked downright rebellious. “Zuko, I understand that you don’t want to hang around with people who talk about your nation like it’s a warmongering destructive conqueror,” this would go well, then, “but your nation kind of is a warmongering destructive conqueror. And besides,” he continued while Zuko clenched his jaw, “I promised Jet I would help him with some important mission tomorrow morning.”

Zuko glanced at Katara for help, but she was staring out the irregular window at Jet, who was walking along a rope bridge two trees over. He glowered at them both and growled, “Fine. We’ll stay here, and Aang will worry about us, and we will help this forest thug wage costly war on a small town.”

Sokka rolled his eyes. “The occupying force in the small town, lighten up a little.” He rolled over to face the wall and go to sleep. It didn’t matter. They would see it eventually.

Sokka’s bed was empty when they woke up. Breakfast, like dinner, was heavy on wild game, and lacking the spices to make it really have flavor. After the meal, on their way up to check if Jet had returned, they ran into Sokka, sitting on a platform with his back to the tree. Katara beamed. “Hey, Sokka! Is Jet back?”

“Yeah, he’s back, but we should leave.”

“What?” Katara backpedaled, and Zuko wondered what had changed Sokka’s mind.

Sokka turned to face them with a dark expression. “Your boyfriend Jet’s a thug.”

“No, he’s not,” insisted Katara.

Her brother dug in. “He’s messed up, Katara.”

“He’s not messed up, he’s just got a different way of life!”

“He beat and robbed a helpless old man!” Ah, there it was. The mission that morning hadn’t been what Sokka expected.

Katara’s voice trembled just a touch, but her shoulders stiffened and she stated, “I wanna hear Jet’s side of the story.” She marched off through the maze of rope bridges and wood platforms, forcing the boys to scramble after her.

Jet’s easy answer to the startling question only made Zuko more suspicious. “Sokka, you told them what happened, but you didn’t mention that the guy was Fire Nation?” His coy smile set Zuko’s teeth on edge.

Katara didn’t notice it, and turned on her brother.”No,” she said, “he conveniently left that part out.”

Sokka was unphased. “Fine, but even if he was Fire Nation, he was a harmless civilian!” Zuko was surprised Sokka would make that distinction, given his family history with the Fire Nation. Maybe Iroh’s Royal Tea-Loving Cookiness had given the Water Tribe boy some sympathy for Firebenders. His mistake. The old General had been the one in command of the siege of Ba Sing Se. He had been responsible for more civilian deaths than any other general in the Army, second only to Fire Lord Sozin himself.

“He was an assassin, Sokka,” Jet stated, and tossed an elegant knife out onto the table before him. It had a sinister-looking curved blade, a grip with spikes meant to fit between the wielder’s fingers, and a ring at the pommel on the end. Jet twisted the pommel ring, and the end of the hilt unscrewed, revealing a glass vial with a red liquid inside. “See?” he said, too casually. “There’s a compartment for poison in the knife.” He smirked, and Katara’s genuine smile felt wrong. “He was sent to eliminate me; you helped save my life, Sokka.”

“I knew there was an explanation,” said Katara confidently.

Sokka spluttered, “I didn’t see any knife!”

Jet rebuked, “That’s because he was concealing it.”

“See, Sokka,” said Katara, “I’m sure you just didn’t notice the knife.” Zuko shook his head but stayed silent. She was a master Waterbender, regardless of whether she technically passed the test or not. He couldn’t stop her if he wanted to, not without hurting them both.

It looked like Sokka came to the same conclusion. He was no bender, and his little sister was lovestruck. She would have to figure it out for herself. He stormed from the room. Zuko followed, more softly.

After a short distance, Sokka stopped on a rope bridge, blocking Zuko from passing. “We have to follow Jet,” he said. “Now, I know, we’re Water Tribe, and you’re the freaking Prince of Doom, but Jet is up to no good.” He was waving his hands animatedly, trying to get Zuko excited about helping.

Zuko raised an amused eyebrow at the boy. “Help you inconvenience a guerrilla group of insurgents and possibly stop them from ending the Fire Nation occupation here, while saving civilian lives and extracting your sister so we can continue on our main course?” He smirked. “I’m in.”

The two of them snuck back up to Jet’s room and found places to hide nearby. Around lunchtime, the forest boy emerged, made a couple of bird-call signals, and jumped on the zipline down to the ground. Katara wasn’t there. Sokka and Zuko waited for a few seconds, then crept closer along the empty rope bridges, glad that everyone else would be off eating lunch at the communal table.

On the mossy ground, Jet and a few of his Freedom Fighters were pushing a wagon slowly toward the road, loaded with barrels that were emblazoned with the Fire Nation insignia. Zuko motioned to get Sokka’s attention, and pointed out the barrels. At Sokka’s confused look, Zuko mouthed “Blasting jelly,” and Sokka went pale.

They tracked silently behind the wagon of explosives for quite a while, until the whole group emerged on a cliff overlooking a depleted reservoir. Below the dam, Zuko spotted a cluster of buildings that must have been the town Jet always talked about.

“Now listen,” commanded Jet, “you are not to blow the dam until I give the signal. If the reservoir isn’t full, the Fire Nation troops could survive.” That was all Zuko needed to hear. He backed slowly away into the underbrush. But before he could signal Sokka to leave, the giant Pipsqueak grabbed the Water Tribe boy by his hair and dragged him forward. Zuko stopped in his tracks, listening for more hidden Freedom Fighters, but was still caught off-guard when the mute Longshot wrapped his wrists in rope and kicked him into the open.

“Sokka, Zuko, so glad you could join us!” called Jet with arms wide. “You’ll have the best seats to watch the Fire Nation be eradicated from this valley.”

Zuko spoke up. “This isn’t right. There are civilians there, women and children who have never and will never participate in this war.” He glared at this boy who wanted so badly to become a war criminal.

Jet smirked. “That’s the price of winning this battle.” He pointed to Zuko’s scar, and Zuko turned it away. “I would have thought you of all people would understand what it takes to fight the Fire Nation.”

Cold wrath settled in Zuko’s stomach. Softly, with malice, he said “You know nothing about me.”

That got the first spark of uncertainty from Jet that Zuko had seen, but it was gone in a flash, buried under bravado and the certainty of teenagers. “I was hoping you’d both have an open mind, but I see you’ve made your choice.” He motioned to Pipsqueak and Longshot. “Tie them here. I can’t have them warning Katara.”

Sokka pulled against Pipsqueak’s grip, but to no avail. “You can’t do this!” he shouted as Jet walked away into the woods.

The forest thug called over his shoulder, “Cheer up, Sokka. We’re gonna win a great victory against the Fire Nation today.”

In short order, they were tied to the trees and left to watch the destruction. Sokka started to speak, but Zuko shook his head to silence him. They might still be close. They needed to be patient.

After a bit, they saw two figures down in the reservoir walking around on the bank of one of the nearby tributary rivers. One walked off into the trees, and the other walked from one place to another making water appear from the ground. Sokka whispers, “That must be Katara.”

Zuko murmured, “Jet must be using her to pull groundwater up to fill the reservoir.” He looked back at Sokka. “Time to go, then.” Longshot hadn’t even entertained the idea that he was a Firebender. He hadn’t immobilized his hands. Zuko took a deep breath and swirled his fingers to point up at the ropes like a blowtorch. The fibers snapped in seconds.

He rubbed at his wrists for a moment, then freed Sokka. “You go try to get the village to evacuate. I’ll head to the dam and try to move those barrels.” Sokka obeyed without a word, and dove into the treeline. Zuko started picking his way down the cliff face to the base of the dam.

It was slow going, and the rocks scraped at his palms, but he made it to the bottom. Now, what to do about those barrels? They had to be moved, no doubt about that. But they needed to be destroyed, too. One at a time would be easiest, but even a small explosion would alert Jet and his Freedom Fighters that something was amiss.

He started moving the barrels one-by-one from the center of the dam to a spot off to the side and several yards away. Hopefully, if one pile were lit, the other would be out of the blast range. Now two barrels were moved away. He would find a way to destroy them later. Moving them was the important part. But they were heavy. Now three barrels were moved, only four were left at the dam. Good. Progress was possible. He set the latest barrel beside the others and went back. Now four barrels were moved. More than halfway.

A bird call cut the air, but Zuko didn’t recognize the bird. Then another call, with a different ending note. That was a signal. He was too late. A flaming arrow arced over the reservoir, aimed perfectly to hit the barrels of blasting jelly. Zuko dashed as fast as he could, desperately hoping for enough distance from the blast.

The shockwave hit a split second before the sound. Zuko felt like all the air had been stripped from his lungs. And then the blast itself hit, and all the sound was gone from his ears. Instinct drove him to spin a dome of fire around himself as the fireball from the explosion spread and ignited the larger pile of barrels that was so much closer.

The world stopped shaking after a few more seconds. Zuko dropped his fire dome quickly, hoping it had been hidden in the smoke. He looked around to assess the damage.

The smaller amount of blasting jelly had blown only a small hole in the base of the dam, but water poured from it like a horizontal waterfall. There was a crater closer to Zuko where the rest of the barrels had been. At least they were destroyed. He could only hope the civilians in the town were able to evacuate.

He couldn’t hear anything, so he sat down. His uncle would be looking for him by now. And the explosion would definitely have drawn his attention. Someone would come soon.

Eventually, a rumble in the dirt drew his eyes up again, and he saw that Nini had landed on the near side of the horizontal waterfall. Aang sat at her head, Iroh clambered down her leg, and both Sokka and Katara were safe in the saddle. Sokka was smiling. So something had worked, at least.

His uncle came close, and his mouth moved, but Zuko still couldn’t hear him. Iroh tried again, slower, and Zuko pieced together that he was asking if he was okay. The Prince nodded, and his uncle helped him to his feet. Sokka reached over the side of the saddle to help him up. Aang smiled wide and then mouthed “Good job, Zuko.”


	10. The Great Divide

Zuko still couldn’t hear very well. His left ear had always had a faint buzz, ever since his banishment, but even that had been gone for the last two days. Today was the first day he had woken up to the muffled sounds of voices.

But everything still sounded like he was hearing it through a wall, and the ringing in his left ear was almost headache-inducing. He rubbed his forehead, careful to stay above the scar.

Uncle Iroh knelt down in front of him, as he had started doing when he had figured out Zuko couldn’t hear him. The old Firebender tapped Zuko’s shoulder and faced him before he spoke, slowly and clearly enunciating, “We are going to stop for today.” What Zuko actually heard was, “Ee ah goi nu dob oh o-ay,” but he read his uncle’s lips easily enough. He nodded acknowledgement.

He heard a jumble of what probably was Aang’s voice, followed by an excited Katara and an indifferent Sokka. It didn’t matter what they were talking about if he couldn’t ever understand them. He didn’t even look up from his ration of seal jerky. He had been picking at it all night.

The sun had risen only an hour or so ago, and Zuko knew he needed sleep, but it refused to come. Maybe once they were on the ground instead of floating around on air currents, he could lay his head down and calm his thoughts. They were all he could hear anymore, and even as hopeless as it felt to try to interact with the others, he felt absolutely manic inside his mind.

Nini landed on a rock cliff with a shuddering thud. Zuko heaved himself over the side of the saddle and landed on the dusty ground. Without too much thought, he started looking around for firewood, but the nearest wood was a forest off in the distance. Everything in the immediate area was bare rock with a few scrub bushes clinging to like in the crevices. This was an Earthbender’s paradise, and a Firebender’s famine.

A young, thin man in light cream robes of exquisite cleanliness bustled up to Aang and stood leaning forward. Best Zuko could tell from this distance, the guy was being preemptively defensive, arguing with Aang about something. From farther down the road, a village’s worth of people in dark brown skins and furs trundled toward the clifftop clearing. The cream-robed man yelled something, and the large woman in the lead of the new group sneered and responded with something that angered the smaller man.

A green-clad Earthbender, stout and strong, ascended from below the cliff’s edge on a squared stone platform, and waved jovially at the growing group of people in the clearing. He traded remarks with the cream-robed gentleman, the rough-looking woman scoffed, and then even more people came up the road, this time dressed in similar cream-colored finery as the first stranger.

Before things could get more heated, Aang stepped between the two groups of people and showed his hands, his tattoos. Clearly this was a lasting feud, and both needed the same thing, probably the Earthbender. But Aang was an Earthbender, too, so it couldn’t be anything like a task that needed doing, or one group would simply accept the other Earthbender’s help. It had to be something specific to this Earthbender.

Iroh leaned in front of Zuko and mouthed “We’re going through the canyon.” On foot then, or it wouldn’t have been worth mentioning. But the old General didn’t have to look at him like a fragile child. He wouldn’t break apart and fall to the ground under a stiff breeze. Even though he felt like it sometimes, now that he couldn’t tell what was going on around him…

He had tried, right at first, to speak back to his uncle, but without being able to hear anything, he hadn’t been able to form the words right. He could feel that something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell what. And Sokka had laughed uproariously. So he hadn’t spoken since. His pride as the Prince of the Fire Nation demanded it.

But what pride could he have, if he couldn’t communicate with anyone? If he couldn’t hear an ambush coming and defend himself? If he couldn’t participate in forming plans or making decisions?

What would he do if his hearing never came back? Could he figure out how to make sure his voice was heard clearly? Could he put mirrors on all the walls so he could lip-read from any direction? Was there even a way that a broken man could be crowned Fire Lord at all?

Aang and the Earthbender led the way down into the canyon, with a whole host of people following closely behind. The two villages stayed distinctly separate. They were definitely feuding over something. Any time someone from one group got too close to the other, there was bickering and sharp words, and a quick correction.

He had felt so good and proud when he saved the occupied Earth Kingdom village, but now… At least his hearing was starting to come back. It might come back enough to let him be normal soon. That was all he wanted. Or it might get just a little bit better, just enough to taunt him but leave him permanently damaged. Was this his destiny? He was supposed to be Fire Lord. Would his people accept a scarred, damaged Prince?

He stared blankly at the rock under his feet. He couldn’t hear his footsteps, or understand the instructions of the Earthbender. The man was some kind of guide, moving boulders aside and clearing paths for them to descend the wall of the canyon, and destroying those paths once they had all passed. It took hours just to descend one side. It would take many more to trudge across the canyon floor. The farther they walked, the more Zuko came to realize the scale of this canyon. It had to be the largest in the world; there was just no other explanation that made sense. The walls towered above him. He was so small. Just a tiny, damaged, useless Prince, stuck following around his greatest nemesis like a loyal fire ferret.

Muted shouting reached his damaged ears, and Zuko looked up to see the Guide being dragged away by a giant insect-like creature with a hard, black exoskeleton and huge, sharp pincers. The man was already bleeding profusely from his shoulder where the beast had a grip on him, and from one leg, which hung limp as he was being dragged away along the ground. It could easily have been Zuko. He hadn’t heard the beast approach. He wouldn’t have noticed until he was in the thing’s jaws. He watched Aang startle the crawling monster with a blast of air, forcing it to drop the Earthbender, then send it skittering away with a fire blast near its eyes.

The canyon guide was crippled. Zuko could see that from here. This canyon was determined to prove just how small, weak, and helpless Zuko and everyone else was. The only one of any of them who stood a chance was the Avatar. How could Zuko compete with that, even if he were whole? And in the state he was now, there was just no way. He was doomed.

The whole group seemed to feel the same helplessness. No one moved for a long few minutes, while Aang gave a command and Katara got to work bandaging the Earthbender’s more serious wounds. They had reached the bottom of the canyon, at least. And the Avatar would save them. His destiny still seemed intact. Of course.

They set the Earthbender on a small boulder, just big enough for him to sit comfortably, and Aang made the stone levitate behind him as he took the lead and guided the group deeper into the canyon. There was a sense of foreboding, an awful quiet that made anxiety more obvious and gave Zuko all the right circumstances to hear the ringing in his left ear louder than anything else. He pressed on the side of his head, hard enough to make the scarred remains of his outer ear sting under the pressure. But he knew the sound wasn’t coming from anywhere he could block.

They didn’t stop for lunch. The two groups of villagers split up and walked on opposite sides of a long mini-cliff, led by Katara and Sokka, with Aang, the Earthbender, and the two Firebenders walking on the thin ledge atop the barrier between them. The three adults kept talking to each other in mumbles and murmurs, so Zuko gave up and layed down on the bare rocks. Maybe the pebbles poking him in the ribs would distract his mind long enough to sleep.

The sun rose, and Zuko stared at the not-so-distant wall of the canyon. It wouldn’t be too long before they were flying again. He stood and brushed himself off. The men on the ledge did the same, and they watched as each village-full of travellers packed up their camps and stowed their belongings for the day’s march. Soon enough everyone was on the move again.

Zuko let the adults walk ahead, and he tipped his good ear more forward to try to hear something. The muffled voices might have been a little more distinct, but the words still escaped him. Destiny was cruel, if this was his fate. Always following behind, waiting for someone to share something with him. He could never run a nation like this. It was imperative that he be able to hear the things whispered in hallways, the muttered dissent among visitors, and anything people spoke of in secret hoping he wouldn’t hear. His hearing had to return, or his destiny was over right here.

They reached the end of the dividing mini-cliff, and the two villages came back together in the shadow of the canyon wall. Immediately there was violent argument, and Aang jumped into the fray to separate them. Whatever he said, it didn’t work. The two leaders pulled swords, and had to be forcibly separated.

If only Zuko could hear their complaints, he might be able to do something. He might be able to help. Diplomacy was a skill in statecraft, and this inability to do anything was crippling.

Zuko noticed that everything was still. He took in the sights. Aang had used Airbending to blow the villages away from each other, but now there were piles and piles of food scattered about the canyon floor. Muted mumbling spread through the throngs of people, and slowly built in volume and intensity as all eyes turned up to the cliff above them.

He followed their gazes upward. Maybe a dozen or more of those giant bug things were crawling down the vertical cliff toward them. Zuko couldn’t hear their skittering claw feet on the stone, but the faces of the people who could hear were scrunched up in disgust and fear. Aang pushed forward, placing himself between the people and the creatures.

Zuko would be useless. He couldn’t hear them move. He couldn’t fight them. He heard some exclamation from Iroh as his uncle dove forward to help Aang, and they both started spitting fire at the crawling monsters. His uncle was Firebending. So the situation was dire, and Zuko was useless.

The Earthbending guide tapped Zuko on the shoulder. He had scooted forward on his makeshift crutches. He said something too quick for Zuko to make out, and Zuko shook his head and pointed to his ear. The guide grimaced, and tried again, more slowly. “You can Firebend. You can help.”

Zuko shook his head and pointed more insistently at his ear. He would be ambushed from behind in a heartbeat. But the Earthbender started again. “You can still see. So look. And fight.” Zuko stood staring at the man. Surely he knew that a fighter who couldn’t hear an enemy behind him was a dead fighter. “My sister is deaf, and a boxer. Keep looking behind you. Anything can be done if you try.”

Zuko looked out at Aang and his uncle, fighting off bug monsters one-by-one as each new creature tried to rush forward. They were almost approaching in a single file line. The monsters always pushed toward the middle, never the edges where the people were. They were targeting the food.

Now, Zuko knew there was something he could do. He stepped carefully over sharp pebbles and rolling rocks that he couldn’t hear, and began picking up the food and storing it in the bags it had come from. He kept his head on a swivel. Pick something up, look around, stuff it in the bag, look around, go to the next thing, look around, pick it up…

Before long, he had several bags of food over his shoulder, and the bug monsters seemed more focused in their attacks. They all moved the same, and Aang and Iroh had the pattern down to a tee. A new crawler would approach, searching for the food, and would be driven back by a blast of flame that dissipated just before it reached the creature’s eyes.

Zuko double checked that he had gathered all the food, hefted the last bag over his shoulder, and stepped carefully forward to stand by Aang. The Avatar looked down at him in a moment between attacks, and said “What?” He had to look back very quickly, to stop the next crawler from coming straight at him. When he had sent it skittering back, he sent a powerful funnel of air at the entire group, spinning them and tossing them away. In the lull that created, he turned quickly to Zuko. “Why are they chasing you?”

Zuko pointed to the bags over his shoulder, swallowed, and tried to say the single word “Food.” He thought it came out okay, and Aang didn’t laugh, at the very least. The echo of it in his head was distracting, though.

The Airbender thought for a moment, then grabbed the bags of food and tossed them on the ground in front of him. Two heavy, forceful motions sent the whole lot flying up and away on a pillar of stone. Zuko watched the crawlers closely. Please turn away, please follow the food. Each one struggled to its feet, sniffed at the air, and turned toward the bags, leaving the crowd of people in favor of smelly, non-combative food. Aang watched them go, then clapped Zuko on the shoulder.

As quickly as they could, Aang and Iroh gathered the villagers together near the base of the canyon wall. Tensions were high between the warring groups, but the near-death experience seemed to have reminded everyone what was at stake. Angry voices and mistrustful stares were in abundance, but everyone still huddled close around Aang as instructed. Zuko watched closely. He thought he knew what might be coming.

Aang closed his eyes for a few breaths. When he opened them, they glowed. Zuko could see the edges of his tattoos, on his hands and just under his hairline, lit up like lanterns. The familiar feeling of being absolutely miniscule, completely powerless before a typhoon, washed over him. Aang punched his hands downward, and then upward, and the ground beneath their feet jolted and rose. A few people fell, but the sheer amount of earth that was moving left no room for anyone to fall off. In seconds, they had reached the top of the canyon wall.

At the top, Aang let the glow fade away, and Iroh ushered everyone off the lifted platform and into the natural clearing on the other side. It took a few minutes to get everyone across the narrow gap between the pillar Aang had raised and the natural cliff wall, but finally, Aang followed them. He stopped and turned back to the pillar, and with a “Hng” and a punching motion, the whole thing fell to pieces and dropped back to the canyon floor far below.

Aang started speaking loudly to the two villages of people, but he wasn’t facing Zuko, so he couldn’t make out any of what was said. It was a long speech, and Zuko heaved a sigh, but he needed to ask Aang something, so he waited with as much patience as he could.

Clearly, he needed his hearing back. There were things he could do without it, but if he was destined to be Fire Lord, he must also be destined to get his hearing back. He lightly brushed the edges of his scar, remembering the day he had found Aang in the South Pole, and the cold tingle of water that had made the pain go away. His ear rang like a gon, and his hand easily diverted from his left eye to his left ear, trying to block out the sound that was inside his head.

Could he really ask a favor, though? Of his greatest nemesis? Of his prisoner? He had been thinking for days, and no alternative had come to him yet. This might well be the only way. And he still might not get all of his hearing back. After all, his eye still looked scarred. Some damage was beyond repair. But he would have to ask to know.

So he waited as Aang finished his long and rambling speech, and the two groups of people wandered off down the road together, mingling and talking amongst themselves for the first time in their feuding histories. He would have to remind himself to ask what Aang said to make them get along. Once his hearing was back. It just had to come back.

Aang’s next move was to jump into the air and land on Nini’s head, hugging the bison after two days apart. Zuko huffed, but stayed put, trying to remember that interrupting the Avatar before asking a favor was not the best of ideas. Katara and Sokka were reloading the group’s packs back onto Nini’s saddle for departure. Soon enough, there would be a break, and Zuko would have the time he needed.

Then, Aang slid off Nini’s forehead and came to kneel in front of Zuko. He slowly said “That was smart, and brave.” Zuko felt dirty receiving a compliment from his target, but somewhere deep in his stomach he felt, maybe, warm?

While his courage stayed with him, Zuko pushed words out through his paranoia of being heard. “Can you… heal…?” He put his hands over his ears, hoping but also dreading what the response would be.

Aang’s eyes softened. “Not here,” he said. “I need clean water.” Zuko’s gaze fell downward and his eyes soured. Aang gently drew his chin back up so the Prince could see his words. “But, when I can, I will.”


	11. The Storm

The sun shone brightly on a clear beach morning. Zuko’s feet were buried under the sandcastle he was building. He looked up at Lu Ten and smiled wide, hearing his cousin’s praise. “That’s so good, Zuzu!” The older boy leaned down to tickle Zuko, and he squealed and leapt to his feet, spraying sand over his cousin. He dashed away across the beach, laughing.

But when he turned around to see if Lu Ten was chasing him, he wasn’t on the beach. He was in the War Council, in his Father’s throne room. “You can’t sacrifice an entire division like that!” he was saying, and his stomach dropped. He knew he was right, but he had been so very wrong. The flames near the throne grew tall and hot. A golden dragon snaked down from the throne in a rush, spitting fire at Zuko. Both of his eyes melted and flowed down his shirt. He couldn’t see!

Zuko sat bolt upright with a gasp. Morning light filtered through the cave’s entrance. Birds chirped outside. He rubbed his forehead, and behind his left ear, avoiding irritating his scar. Aang had used the healing water on both of his ears yesterday, and his right one was back to normal. But his left, previously damaged, now had a constant ring and buzz that overpowered softer sounds like birds and wind. Aang said that would probably never go away.

Iroh yawned and stretched at the fireside, and saw that Zuko was awake. “Prince Zuko, are you alright?” He turned toward his nephew. “You look troubled.”

“I’m fine,” insisted Zuko, getting to his feet. “Just a bad dream.”

Iroh looked at him with an inscrutable expression, not giving anything of his thoughts away on his face. “Dreams are where our minds try to make sense of our memories,” he said in classic, confusing, Iroh fashion. “How about I make you a nice cup of calming Jasmine tea?” He pointed to the small kettle of water he was tending over the fire.

Zuko wrapped up his bedroll. “I don’t need tea.” He stuffed it in his pack and set the pack to the side of the cavern near the entrance, where it could easily be picked up and loaded onto Nini’s saddle. “I need to regain my honor.” He looked around for Aang and the Water Tribe siblings, but their packs were tied and placed like Zuko’s. “Where are the others?”

“They went down to the village to earn some money and buy some food for the next few weeks,” his uncle replied. “There’s a storm coming, and a big one. We don’t want to be caught in it without supplies.”

Zuko looked outside at the clear blue morning sky. “There’s not a cloud to be seen,” he protested.

“Even so,” Iroh continued, “there will be a storm. And we need food.” He removed his pot from the fire and poured the steaming water into his teacup. “You and I can use the time to practice a new Firebending form. We won’t be seen up here, so far from the village.”

Whatever the incorrect reason, Zuko was more than happy to learn a new set of forms. After Zuko had eaten stale bread and seal jerky for breakfast, the two Firebenders got moving, passing Nini on the ledge landing of the cliffside cave and taking a thin walking trail up and away from the ocean.

A cloud bank obscured the Northern horizon.

They spent the morning drilling the forms. Iroh was teaching Zuko the proper way to do the spinning kick that had saved him from Zhao in the Agni Kai at the pirate port. With proper instruction and practice, Zuko could now use the momentum from the spin to propel himself to his feet once the threat from above was blocked. He was panting and covered in dust by the time Aang and Katara returned.

A tall, dense storm cloud advanced steadily across the sky.

Katara danced up to the cliffside clearing, unconcerned by the displays of Firebending. “Sokka got a job!” she sang, and Zuko stopped to wonder.

Iroh smiled and wiped sweat from his brow. “That’s good!” he said. “What job has he taken?”

Aang stared at the storm clouds with just a hint of trepidation. “He took a place on a fishing boat when the owner’s wife refused to go out in the storm.”

Zuko didn’t understand the worried silence that followed. “It’s not even raining,” he insisted. “What’s the problem?”

“There’s an energy of lightning in the air,” said Iroh.

“The wind is disturbed,” said Aang. “But he wanted to go. He wanted to earn his keep.”

Katara waved a hand at the adults. “He’ll be fine, he always has been.” She started down the small path to the cave. “He’s probably making jokes about how many fish he’s going to eat in front of us because he paid for them.”

“Still,” said Aang quietly, “it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a storm like this.” He sat on the cliff’s edge and put his hands together, and only his steady breathing told Zuko the man hadn’t turned to stone on the spot, until he spoke again. Softly, almost to himself, he said “There was a storm like this the day the monks sent me into hiding, just before the comet arrived…”

Iroh stepped past Zuko toward the small path. “We are done for today. We should get inside.” He glanced nervously at the horizon. “The rain will be here soon.”

Zuko scoffed, but followed his uncle down the path to the cave. If they weren’t leaving, he might as well unpack his bedroll for tonight, and maybe have some tea. He was hungry, and their food stores were short. Nini groaned in greeting when they passed, and licked Iroh before he could get away.

Dark, angry clouds blotted out the sun and every inch of the sky.

When the rain started, it was a calming counterpoint to the constant buzz in Zuko’s ear. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, the sound of the rain was a constant, unceasing backdrop that was slowly able to lull Zuko into a mental peace that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. The cloudy gloom and the flickering firelight were a repetitive but unpredictable contrast. He sat at the fireside with the warm cup of earthy-smelling tea in his hands, shut his eyes, and listened to nothing but the rain.

His mind began to wander. He strolled peacefully through the halls of the royal palace, holding the silk of his mother’s robes. He squished his toes in the sand following Iroh and Lu Ten down the beach at sunset. His heart fluttered as Mai approached him in the palace courtyard. His heart stopped when his mother gaped in disapproval of “how Azula feeds turtleducks.” His heart pounded in his ears as his father stood over him, telling him to fight.

His eyes flew open, and flames danced in front of them. Zuko scrambled backward, throwing his tea across the front of his shirt and scratching his hands on the sharp pebbles strewn about the cave floor. Right, this was a cave. In the Earth Kingdom. It was just a campfire. He took a long, steadying breath, trying to stop his muscles from shaking with the desire to flee. He was no coward. And there was nothing to run from. It was just a campfire.

He heard someone clear their throat, and looked up from the fire to see Katara sitting opposite from him. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes spoke volumes. Zuko stood up quickly and stalked away toward the cave entrance where his uncle sat watching the storm.

Lightning streaked across the dark sky, and thunder echoed back from the cliffs all around them.

A woman’s voice cut through the driving rain. “Help! Oh, please help!” From just up the path, Aang came guiding a small old woman with gray hair and ragged, fishy-smelling clothes. Katara and Iroh jumped up to help the woman farther into the cave and out of the storm. Aang followed, the only one not sopping wet.

“It’s okay,” Iroh soothed, “you’re safe.” He poured a cup of tea from the pot, and helped the woman settle in beside the fire to warm up.

She wouldn’t be calm, though. “Yes, but my husband isn’t!”

Katara’s worry crept into her voice. “What do you mean? Where’s Sokka?”

“They haven’t returned,” explained the fisherman’s wife. “They should have been back by now, and this storm’s becoming a typhoon!” She took the cup of warm tea, but her eyes were anything but calm. “They’re caught out at sea!”

Aang immediately said, “I’m going to find him.” Iroh and Katara both followed him out the cave entrance without a second thought, two master benders might be needed.

Zuko fumed. “I’m going, too.” At the shocked looks from his companions, he added, “You’re not going to leave me here.”

The fisherman’s wife spluttered, “Well, I’m staying here!” and took a sip of her tea. Everyone else clambered onto Nini’s drenched saddle and Aang gave the command to fly, guiding them out over the turbulent ocean.

Nini was fighting the driving rain, buffeting winds, and sea swells that climbed dozens of feet into the air before breaking and crashing back into the smaller waves. Aang seemed to know which direction the fishing boat had gone, and was leading them in a search pattern back and forth, slowly taking them farther out to sea. More than once, Nini had heaved them all upward to avoid a monster wave, but to see the ocean through the sheets of rain and lightning flashes, they had to stay low.

Then, after the crash of another lightning bolt, Aang shouted, “There!” He pulled Nini into a dive and brought them up alongside the small boat. Zuko watched it tip and heave in the surf, rocking violently under the forces of wind and waves. Sokka was on the deck, clinging to the main mast beside an old, hunched, well-weathered fisherman. Aang and Iroh jumped down onto the deck, while Katara took Nini’s reins.

Crackling electricity in the air gave them a fraction of a second’s warning of the strike. The bolt of lightning came straight for the main deck, in the front where Iroh had just set foot. Zuko watched in horror, and then awe, as his uncle reached two fingers skyward, caught the bolt of lightning, and shot it out away from the boat with his other hand. For another moment, no one moved, and Zuko thought his uncle looked frazzled.

But the force of the concussion through the air, the thunderous crash, splintered the already-soaked and weakened main mast. The thick beam fell across the deck toward where Sokka and the fisherman were huddling. Aang thrust his hands upward, and the thin sheet of water on the deck sliced upward under the mast, splitting it in two before it could hit. The halves fell to either side, and Sokka ran forward through the cutting winds to hug Aang tightly.

Another gust of wind nearly knocked Nini sideways as the storm continued to intensify. Zuko shouted to be heard, “Come on, we have to go!” Iroh and Aang helped the old fisherman to his feet and steadied each other as they traversed the heaving deck. Zuko reached out one arm, clinging to Nini’s saddle with the other. He hauled the old fisherman up, and reached back for Sokka.

A low roar made him turn his head. An enormous wave towered over them. The crest was already breaking. There was no time to escape. They would be swallowed by this one. Zuko snatched Sokka’s hand and braced himself.

The wall of water struck like stone. They tumbled through the bubbly remains of the wave. Which way was up? The weightlessness of being underwater and the constant spinning made it impossible to tell. He knew how much salt water would hurt his eyes, but he needed to see. He bit his tongue and opened his eyes.

Katara had Nini’s reins. The fisherman had his arm through a hole on the other side of the saddle. Zuko had Sokka by the hand, and was anchoring them both to another grip on the saddle. Where were Aang and Iroh? Nini wasn’t moving, was she dazed or hurt? How could he do anything to help if he couldn’t figure out which way was up?

A glow approached from the murky depths of the ocean. Great, what now? Zuko stared at it, willing it to not be a sea monster or angry spirit or something. As it moved closer, he saw the light distinguish itself into three points, then even closer one of the points split again to three smaller ones. Eyes, hands, and forehead. It was Aang, in the Avatar State.

From nowhere, they were surrounded by a swirling sphere of wind. Zuko sputtered and coughed, and was glad to hear Sokka, Katara, and the old Fisherman do the same. Nini pumped her tail and flipped around, and something felt right. Up was up, and down was down again.

Zuko heaved Sokka up enough for the younger boy to grab hold for himself, and they hauled themselves up into the saddle. The fisherman was laying in the middle, and pushed himself up to sitting. Katara made way for Aang to sit on Nini’s neck, and joined them in the relative safety of her back. Zuko looked up to Aang. “Where’s my uncle?”

Aang faced forward, but shook his head. He clapped his hands and spread them upward and downward. The ocean obeyed him. A horizontal chasm opened before them, like the surface of a calm sea with its reflection floating above. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but still water. Aang shook his hand, and a layer of water fell from the top to the bottom. Several fish and bigger sea creatures fell with it, but no Iroh. He shook his hand again, more fish, no Iroh. And again. And again. They rose within the air bubble each time the water fell, searching.

Near the surface, the water became more forceful, driven to chaos by the worst of the storm. Aang gritted his teeth, and shook his hand. A large, green blob fell from the turbulent upper section to the calm lower section. Aang spun his glowing hands around him, and the water drew the figure toward them. It was Iroh.

Ignoring Katara’s protest, he dove out from the swirling bubble of wind and into the artificial chasm. Swimming with water suspended above him felt odd, but he grabbed Iroh with one arm around his chest and started backstroking to return to Nini. The wind sphere pulled at his clothes, but he pushed Iroh up as much as he could. Katara and Sokka grabbed his wrists, and hauled the unresponsive old Firebender up. Zuko climbed Nini’s fur and braced his shoulders against his uncle’s back to help carry his weight.

Finally, they were all in the saddle. Aang let the sea collapse back into itself, but kept the wind bubble around them. With a start, they crashed through the surface of the ocean and out into open air.

But the typhoon had not let up. Aang released the Avatar State and seemed to shrink a little, but he kept pushing Nini forward. The strong winds and driving rain were back with a vengeance, trying to batter them back into the sea. It seemed like the typhoon would win. It had to. Nothing could compete with that kind of natural disaster.

And then everything was still. No wind, no rain. There was even a bit of weak afternoon sunlight. Zuko looked around and saw the wall of clouds they had emerged from was a small circle. It was the eye of the storm.

“Go, Nini. Up above it,” Aang instructed, and the bison obliged. She was no more willing to reenter that madness than the rest of them. “Katara, get the water out of Iroh’s lungs.”

They were not out of the woods yet. Katara knelt beside Zuko. She put her hand against Iroh’s chest, feeling for the water. A moment later, her hand moved fluidly, drawing what she had found up toward Iroh’s head, and then out his mouth. Zuko couldn’t believe how much water could be stuck where air should be.

Immediately, Iroh coughed up more, and rolled to his side. He opened his eyes. Zuko smiled to see his uncle moving again. Iroh groaned and said, “I think I’ve had enough water for today.”

They breached the top of the storm, and Nini was happy to glide above the clouds until they reached the coast again. The storm was moving south, sliding past the coast instead of approaching it. Near land, the winds were much less forceful and the seas much less violent. They were able to descend back to the cliffside cave with no trouble. But Nini layed on her side with a groan the moment everyone was safely on the ground.

The old fisherman and his wife ran to each other, and she nearly toppled him by jumping into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” She stepped back with a stern expression. “You owe this man an apology.”

Aang stepped up to them and interrupted. “He doesn’t need to apologize.”

Zuko had no idea what they were talking about, so he focused back on his uncle, still coughing sporadically and breathing heavily. “Uncle,” he started, “I’m sorry…” He didn’t know how to say that he wished he had been kinder to him, that Iroh had always been there when he needed him, he didn’t even know if those things would be solved with an apology.

His uncle looked into his eyes and said, “Apology accepted,” and no more. He smiled with all the warmth and kindness he had ever shown, and Zuko smiled back.

Sokka set a fish on the ground near the fire and moved to the entrance of the cave. “Do you hear that?” he asked. “It stopped raining.”


	12. The Blue Spirit

Sokka had started coughing only a few hours after the storm abated. A few hours after that, they had to land in the ruins of an old settlement and find water to help keep his fever down. Then Katara had started coughing, and they knew something had to be done.

Aang’s usually kind and carefree face was deeply lined with concern. Instead of the 70 years he usually showed, Zuko thought he saw a hint of the man’s true age in those lines. When Katara’s fever had confined her to her sleeping bag beside her brother with delirium and confusion, Aang had made a decision. “Stay here,” he had said. “Zuko, stay with them and protect them. Iroh, if they need anything, you are less recognizable and more capable of returning safely. I will find medicine and return in a few days.” He had pointed out a mountaintop apothecary and said the journey would be a day each way, even for him alone. He had to go alone.

Zuko didn’t like it, but the younger kids were looking worse by the hour. So they had watched Aang sprint away, and the harder he ran, the faster he moved, until he was a blur of Airbending motion on the long road, vanishing into the distance. That had been two days ago.

This morning, Iroh had left to get more water. Now, Zuko saw him approaching the broken steps to the landing they were camped on, carrying all their waterskins over one shoulder, and a scroll of paper in the other. Zuko waited for him to get close and asked “What’s that?”

His uncle handed him the paper without a word, and moved into the camp to give the sick siblings fresh water. Zuko unrolled what looked like an official Fire Nation bulletin, and read 

Zuko whispered to himself in disbelief, “Zhao captured the Avatar…?” The war on the Air Nation had never officially been declared complete, because the last Airbender had never been found. This missive meant that Zhao had Aang, and that Zuko would never be allowed home to sit on the throne. “I have to go,” he said aloud.

His uncle bowed his head. “I know.”

Zuko strode quickly to his pack, and dug all the way to the bottom. There, he found the only sentimental things he had kept from his childhood, and the only non-necessities he had brought with him off the ship when they had split at the South Pole. It was a troubadour’s mask, a blue and white demon face, and a set of well-made prop dual-swords that his mother had used during her young life as a performer, before she had been wed to his father. The mask would completely cover his face, and he had sharpened the swords on a whim two years ago.

He took these and nothing else, and set out for the Yuyan Fortress. He knew its location from old maps in the palace. It wasn’t far.

He trekked through swamps and plains, into the foothills of the mountains. He went as fast as he could, but he knew he had to be ready to fight when he reached his destination. When the shadows of dusk began stretching, he slunk off the roads and put on the mask.

Finally, he found the wall of the compound. It was some distance from him, across a flat, empty field from the strand of trees he was hiding in. He crept back to the road and waited for an opportunity.

A heavy cart pulled by a team of two ostrichhorses came trundling by. He laid on the ground and rolled himself under the cart as it clattered by, and pulled himself up between the axles. The cart rolled on down the road, toward the heavily-guarded walls of Yuyan Fortress.

The gate attendant stopped them with a shout. Zuko watched his feet shuffle around to inspect the contents of the cart. When the guard started to take a knee to look under the cart for stowaways, he slunk up the side and into the already-cleared cargo area. Basic misdirection. The cart trundled through the first gate. Then the second.

When it cleared the third gate, Zuko peeked out, waited for adequate cover, and slid from the back of the cart into the shadows of some cargo boxes. The cart carried on, clearly delivering supplies to the main tower. Zuko watched its path, and the various guards it encountered.

Confident that he now knew where the guards were looking, he snuck behind them, inching closer to the main tower with every furtive dash from one shadow to the next. He approached the door, and stopped when he heard a roar of gathered voices from just around the corner of the building.

He carefully poked his eyes around to see what the commotion was, and almost jerked back. But this was important to see. An entire battalion’s worth of Fire Nation soldiers had gathered in orderly blocks on the flat concourse to hear now-Admiral Zhao’s advertised speech. It was happening now. Zuko couldn’t have picked a worse time to break into an impenetrable fortress.

“We are the sons and daughters of Fire!” cried Zhao to the ravenous crowd. “The superior element!” He had to stop for the roar of agreement. “Until today, only one thing stood in our path to victory - the Avatar. I am here to tell you that he is now my prisoner!” Zhao raised his arms in triumph and the crowd roared again. “This is the year Sozin’s Comet returns to grant us its power!” He clenched his fist and waited for the cheer to die down. “This is the year the Fire Nation breaks through the walls of Ba Sing Se,” his voice rose into a powerful declaration, “and burns the city to the ground!”

The thunderous roar of approval and adulation would have been exhilarating, if Zuko hadn’t been in the process of extracting the Avatar from Zhao’s grip. He slowly backed away from the sight, and slipped through the door. He had to move quickly now. Zhao would want to have Aang on the move, and soon.

He stuck to side hallways, pulling himself into the ductwork and piping overhead any time he heard someone coming. Upward he climbed, always upward. If Zhao was half the showboat Zuko thought he was, Aang would be locked in chains at the very top. He found a set of stairs and climbed.

When there was no higher to go, Zuko peeked around a corner and found a room with two very attentive guards. That had to be it. He heard footsteps approaching from behind him and pulled himself into the ceiling again. The patrol stepped past him without a second thought. He dropped silently to the floor, swung the soldier around by his arm, and hit him in the temple with his own dagger.

The scuffle alerted the door guards. Zuko heard one approach, and readied himself. When the man stepped around the corner, he swept his feet out from under him and pushed his head into the ground, hard. Both soldiers were breathing, but not moving. Perfect.

The last one would be more tricky, and he couldn’t use the element of surprise. He dashed forward, ducked under the blast of fire the guard levelled at him, and pushed the man’s wrist upward to prevent more Firebending. Then, he ducked around behind him, pulling his arm into a lock and forcing the soldier to lean forward to relieve the pressure on his shoulder. With a shove and a kick, Zuko sent him face-first into the polished metal floor. He did not get back up.

Quickly, before he could be discovered, Zuko ducked into the room. There, on a pedestal in the center, bound at wrists and ankles by metal chains and sporting arrows buried in his shoulders and knees, stood Aang. The Avatar’s head rose sharply when he heard the door, and his eyes squinted with suspicion when he saw the masked intruder. Zuko unsheathed his prop swords, and hoped they would be sturdy enough for what he intended. He spun them in his hands to feel the weight, then stepped carefully forward and cut the chains at Aang’s wrists. The swords did well, shattering the iron links in one try. 

Aang’s arms fell to his sides, and he cried out as the arrows ground in the joints of his shoulders. Zuko thought the man had only stayed standing because it would hurt more to fall, and have the arrows in his knees move around doing more damage. He slashed again and freed Aang’s ankles. The manacles would have to come off, but that could wait. He wasn’t restricted anymore.

Zuko knelt and put his swords aside. He put one hand gently on Aang’s knee, and with the other grabbed the shaft of the first arrow. He looked up to make sure Aang knew what was happening, and the Airbender nodded with a grimace. Zuko yanked the arrow free. The sound of Aang in pain sent chills down Zuko’s spine. He had to stop himself from shaking as he grabbed the second arrow.

Again, he looked up and waited for Aang’s nod, and then pulled as hard as he could. Aang made less noise that time. He was either going into shock, or diving into the pain to desensitize himself. Zuko didn’t know how to tell the difference. At least his knees were free now. The next arrow would be his shoulder.

Zuko stood and set his hand to brace Aang’s shoulder, and Aang said, “Just do it quickly.” So Zuko pulled. The moment Aang had use of his shoulder, he gritted his teeth and reached for the other. He removed the last arrow himself, and seared all the wounds with Firebending. “There are archers here who can hit a specific joint from across a whole swamp,” he breathed. “Watch yourself.”

There was fire and steel in the Airbender’s eyes, and it compelled Zuko to nod silently and gesture politely for Aang to lead the way. “Gladly,” he growled and stalked forward, stepping heavily on what must have still been painfully wounded knees.

Aang threw the door wide and strode through the hall to the stairs. He did not speak. Zuko followed a few paces behind to give him room to… to do what, exactly? The man was a pacifist. But he hadn’t sounded much like a pacifist just then. Maybe best not to find out.

The first soldier they encountered was halfway down the tower, coming up the stairs. Aang flicked his wrist dismissively, and the man was hurled first into a wall and then into the ceiling by nothing Zuko could see. The soldier fell back onto the stairs, and Aang pushed him aside with his foot to clear the path so he could continue.

They reached the ground floor without another incident. This must have been the night shift, Zuko thought. Everyone else must be asleep. Without pause, Aang threw this door open with a clash of metal, and stalked out into the open yard.

Alarm bells rang out. Search lights flooded the area with reflected and focused firelight. In another moment, the whole fortress would be teeming with soldiers fresh from Zhao’s stirring speech and ready to fight to the death for their nation. He knew why Aang wasn’t running, but man would it be nice to just sprint away into the darkness.

The Avatar strode forward. A group of half a dozen guards ran up to stand in his way. He stomped and twisted his foot. With a startled cry, the six soldiers sank up to their chests in the solid stone of the ground. Aang stepped past them and continued.

From the high balcony, Admiral Zhao’s voice rang out. “The Avatar has escaped! Close all the gates immediately!”

Zuko was just close enough to catch Aang muttering “As if that could stop me.” They were approaching the first gate now, and it had screeched into motion. Aang grunted and threw his fists forward and up. A pillar of stone erupted from the ground between the two halves of the gate. He punched forward again, and an arched tunnel opened before them. He kept walking. Zuko followed.

The other gates would be shut completely before they reached them. Zuko stuck close to Aang now, ready to help if there was ever an opportunity. More soldiers had gathered in the next area, but Aang swirled his hands and pushed forward, sending dozens of them flying in either direction. A few went rather high, and landed more heavily than Zuko thought a pacifist would be okay with. Aang walked on.

Near the wall, Aang slowed. He planted his feet and swung his arms wide, grimacing in pain. Zuko had half a second to wonder what he was doing before he was flung high into the air by incredible winds and dropped on the top sentry path of the wall.

The soldiers to either side stared wide-eyed at the masked figure that had been dropped in their midst, and then charged him. Zuko broke two spearheads with his swords and kicked one man back. The rest of the men stopped and stared off behind Zuko, and suddenly he was being dragged upward into the air by the collar of his black shirt. Aang, propelled by a tornado that was wreaking havoc below, lifted Zuko out over the second wall, and then they both fell as the tornado ceased to be.

Just before they hit the ground, a cushion of air caught them and set them gently on the hard stone. Only one gate stood between them and the open forest now. Aang clenched his jaw and stepped forward into a sea of Fire Nation uniforms.

Several barrages of fireballs were fired at once. Zuko felt the heat of them. Aang caught every bit of flame in an upright dome shield in front of him, then concentrated all the fire into a tight kernel of blazing light, and with a “Hah!” he sent it all back at the soldiers in a flat, sharp, powerful arc. Row after row of Firebenders tried and failed to block the strike, and were knocked away with charred clothes and stinging, blistering hands. “Stay close to me,” said Aang, and stepped forward.

Zuko almost missed hearing the faint whistle over the ubiquitous ringing in his ear. Before he had time to react, Aang had flung his hand out and summoned a momentary torrent of wind. A single arrow clattered to the ground. The Avatar kept walking.

A volley of dozens of arrows came flying through the night, whistling ominously from all directions. Aang punched his fists together at his waist, and the spherical air shield that Zuko was coming to appreciate surrounded them both. Nothing made it through. Aang kept walking, and Zuko stepped quickly to stay within the bubble.

They approached the last gate. From directly above, Zuko heard the twang of a bowstring. Immediately, a searing pain erupted in his shoulder, above the joint in the muscle near his neck. But the bubble was still there! How did they hit him? He couldn’t lift his arm.

There was a stillness in the air, a pause and an expectation that seemed to weigh everything down for a moment. Aang had stopped walking. Zuko looked up at the old Avatar and found a wide range of emotions on his face, none of them good. Concern, empathy, surprise, and disbelief were overshadowed by cold fury. He balked as Aang’s eyes erupted into pits of blazing white light, and everything else seemed inconsequential.

Zuko didn’t have time to understand everything that happened after that. What he thought he saw was impossible. There was no way one man could cause so much utter devastation. The scream of the archer as he was flung from the wall echoed around the fortress. A full-sized tornado, complete with clouds and lightning, descended upon the soldiers in the yard. The outer wall collapsed entirely into a long trench in the rock beneath it. The noise of it all was terrifying.

When things stopped moving, there was no gate between them and the forest. There were no archers ready to place arrowheads between their bones. There were no lights of any kind anywhere on the fortress grounds. There was only dust and a chorus of moans, groans, and coughs as injured soldiers struggled to see in the dark.

Aang took Zuko’s good arm gently. “Let’s go.” The Prince said nothing. He was still masked, still surrounded by Fire Nation eyes, and still could not afford to be recognized. His shoulder throbbed with every step.

They reached the dark shadows of the forest. The first lights were beginning to cut through the night back at the destroyed fortress. The stillness of the trees was calming, but for Zuko it also came as a stark contrast to the display of sheer power he had just witnessed. He didn’t know whether to thank Aang or run from him.

Under a large tree with roots big enough to be benches, and as the first morning light crept into the Eastern sky, Aang motioned for Zuko to sit. The Prince obliged, though he had some inkling now that he really had no choice if Aang decided to force the issue.

The Airbender knelt in front of Zuko, eye-level with him instead of towering above. “Were the others still okay when you left?” Zuko’s shock must have shown even through his mother’s Blue Spirit mask, because Aang chuckled softly. “Of course it’s you. Who else would it be?”

Zuko reached behind his head and untied the straps of the mask, letting it fall safely into his lap. “They were not any better, but my uncle was still totally unaffected,” he replied.

“Good,” nodded Aang. “Now, this will hurt,” he said, placing his hand flat on Zuko’s shoulder and standing to get a good angle on the arrow that was still protruding from the muscle. “They were aiming for your head, but they couldn’t account for Airbending.” He yanked the shaft free and immediately seared the wound closed with his other hand. Zuko couldn’t hold his pain in completely, and a startled morning bird screeched away into the deeper forest. Aang said, “You took that well.”

“Thanks,” muttered Zuko. Louder, he continued, “We need to get back. Did you find medicine?”

“I did,” Aang said with confidence. “An old crazy woman said to suck on frozen wood frogs from the valley swamp.”

Zuko was taken aback, but resigned himself to this new insanity. If it didn’t work, they would find something else. It would take most of the day to get back to their companions, so they had to get moving, and this was as good a direction as any.

By mid morning, they had reached the valley floor. Aang scooped up several frozen, hibernating frogs and placed them in some hidden pocket inside his blue Water Tribe shirt, and they kept moving. By early afternoon, they spotted the ruined settlement where they had left the siblings and Iroh. It was another hour before they climbed the broken steps to the landing.

Iroh caught sight of them, and worry clouded his eyes. “What in the world happened?!”

Aang stepped past him with a tired smile. “It is a very long story, my friend. I will tell you after I sleep.” He pulled the frogs from his shirt, and gave each of the siblings one to suck on. To Zuko’s disgusted astonishment, their color began improving immediately. Aang fell onto Nini’s furry tail and started snoring. Zuko thought that was his best idea yet.


	13. The Fortune Teller

They weren’t going to be flying for a while. The sickness had left Sokka and Katara weak and short of breath, and when Nini had taken them high enough to cruise, they had both started coughing and turned pale, and Aang brought them back to the ground. They needed time to recover.

But on the ground, Aang and Zuko’s arrow wounds were not getting the rest they needed to heal quickly. The Airbender spent as much time as he could riding atop Nini’s head, and Iroh insisted on carrying Zuko’s pack for him, but they both ached every afternoon.

So when they came across a nice mountainside village, the whole group agreed to stop for a day or two. The siblings could take the time to rest and acclimate themselves to being slightly higher up on the mountainside, Aang could search for some particularly spiritual water to see if that would help with his healing sessions with Zuko, and Iroh could take a break from being the only able-bodied member of the group.

They left Nini outside the gate; it was usually best not to terrify your hosts by introducing them to a supposedly-extinct six-ton magical beast. When they stepped onto the main village road, all they saw were smiles in every direction. Everyone here seemed to be in a constant state of peace. It was rather off-putting.

Sokka seemed to share Zuko’s sentiment. “Why is everyone so happy?” He kept looking around for anyone without a blissful smile on their face. “They live in the middle of nowhere on a mountain. They’ve got to have troubles like anyone else.”

Iroh mused, “Maybe being this far North, and inland, they haven’t been touched by the War yet.”

Aang had a secretive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps,” he said with that tone adults used when they knew that idea was wrong. “Or they are being guided well.”

“Travellers!” cheered a smiling man who passed in front of them on the street. “Have you come to see Aunt Wu’s predictions for this year?”

Zuko hadn’t heard that right. “Aunt who?”

“No,” the man said, “Aunt Wu. She is going to read the clouds to predict the fate of the village.” He was so sure of himself, but Zuko was entirely unconvinced.

Sokka definitely shared Zuko’s sentiment. “She’s a fortune teller? And the whole village just does what she tells them to?”

The man’s smile widened. “That’s right! She’s never been wrong!”

Aang laughed and grabbed the man’s shoulders. “She would have a way about her! Can you tell me where I might find Aunt Wu? I’m sure she’ll be expecting us.”

The man happily pointed to a building with a decorative facade and an ornate sliding washi door. Aang thanked him and started off down the street, smiling and waving to everyone he saw.

Zuko glanced over to Sokka, knowing the Water Tribe boy would catch the meaning in his shocked and confused look. He was not disappointed when Sokka gave him one back that said ‘Just go with it, I have no idea.’

Aang walked right up to the washi door, slid it smoothly open, and took off his shoes as he stepped inside. Katara and Sokka had fur-lined slippers, so they were able to follow easily. Iroh and Zuko had gotten their shoes from a sturdy Earth Kingdom maker, and had to sit to untie the laces before they could enter.

The inside of the house smelled of cinnamon and incense. Aang had led the Water Tribe siblings to a group of pillows on the ground, and were sitting cross-legged in roughly a circle, leaving room for Iroh and Zuko to join. Zuko picked out a medium-sized red cushion and awkwardly took the place reserved for him.

The three of them were clearly in the middle of a conversation. Katara was exasperated. “Why can’t you just accept that there are some things that can’t be explained?”

Sokka insisted, “Because there’s science and reason and truth to everything. Nothing just can’t be explained.”

Aang smiled and raised a finger. “I can’t be explained.”

“That’s different,” argued Sokka, “there’s Spirits involved.”

Iroh sank onto a thick, fluffy cushion with a chuckle. “There are always Spirits involved,” he said, and Sokka scoffed but didn’t argue.

A small girl, maybe seven years old, with big braids of thick, tightly-curled hair sticking straight out from her head in both directions, came around the corner with a tray of small pastries. “Oh, there are more of you!” she said, eyes wide. She set the tray in the middle of the circle. “I’ll bring more. And you,” she pointed at Aang, “Aunt Wu is ready for you.”

The Airbender stood and said, “Thank you, Meng. Lead the way.”

Without Aang, Iroh took over leading the conversation. “You should not be so quick to dismiss the Spirits. This fortune teller may be a fraud as you think, but she may also be more spiritual than most, and simply repeating what the Spirits tell her.”

Sokka crossed his arms. “Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Iroh smiled and let the silence settle in. Zuko recognized the patient Pai Sho strategy. Let your opponent walk into their own mistakes.

After a few minutes, Zuko wasn’t counting, they heard Aang’s hearty laughter approaching from around the corner. He slid the inner door open and walked out into the waiting room with a stately woman on his arm. She was shorter than him, with full, gray hair tucked neatly into a decorative comb, and flowing goldenrod robes. She smiled at the ragtag group before her. “Who’s next?” she asked kindly, looking to Iroh first. “How about you?”

The old Firebender gave a hearty laugh. “Madame, at my age, there is usually only one great mystery left, and I’d much rather leave it a mystery.” He bowed his head and motioned to the kids.

Sokka stood and stretched. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll go.”

Aunt Wu gave him a crooked smile and said, “You have a warrior’s heart, but lack the deeper understanding. Without it, you will be the cause of your own misfortune.”

Katara’s jaw dropped, and Sokka gawked at the woman. “But,” he protested, “you didn’t even read my palms or whatever.”

“I don’t have to,” replied the fortune teller. “It’s written all over your face.” She patted Aang’s arm and moved back toward the door, motioning for Zuko to follow her. He reluctantly stood and walked through the door to the inner rooms.

She led him down the hallway and around a corner to a small closet-sized room with candles mounted on the walls around a single small, square table with two cushions on the floor. At her nod, he chose a cushion and sat at the table.

From a tall shelf, Aunt Wu retrieved a velvet bag and set it in the center of the small table, taking her seat opposite Zuko. “The runes,” she started, “are not the most accurate, or the most personal means of reading someone’s future, but they are the most detailed.” She opened the small pouch. “Please reach in and pull out a stone.”

Zuko did as he was instructed. The smooth, gray stone glittered with the bits of crystal embedded within it, and the symbol carved on it had been inlaid with gold. “Ahh,” said the fortune teller at the sight, “you may be young, but your heart is old, and you take responsibility for things you should not.” She held out the bag for Zuko to replace the stone, and he did.

But to his surprise, the reading was not over. Aunt Wu kneaded the outside of the velvet pouch, stirring up the stones inside, and then poured them all out on the table. “Here we are, then,” she mused, looking from one to the next like a librarian cataloguing books. “And this one face down, yes, that makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” asked Zuko, half curious, but more dubious. This seemed like a lot of work to hide a spiritual connection. Maybe she actually was a fraud.

She swept her hand over the table. “See the way the stones fall into two groups? You will face a crossroads, and your decision will shape your future. On one road,” she pointed to specific stones now, “there awaits tradition, victory, and stagnation. On the other,” she moved her hand to the other side of the table, “there is conflict, betrayal, and perhaps true happiness.”

Zuko shook his head. He didn’t know what he had expected. “Those things don’t fit together,” he said and stood. “This is ridiculous. I’ll show myself out.”

He turned his back on the fraud and stepped back out into the hallway. He followed the sound of Sokka’s strong skepticism straight back to the waiting room. “Your turn,” he said to Katara, “but I wouldn’t believe anything you hear.”

Sokka smirked at his sister, but Katara blew them both off. “You two wouldn’t know a spiritual person if they started glowing in front of you.” She practically danced through the door and down the hallway.

Aang faced Iroh and gushed, “So, Tashi is going to read the clouds this afternoon, and I think we should stay to see it.” Iroh nodded without question.

Zuko butted in, surprised. “Who’s Tashi?”

“Aunt Wu,” said Aang, matter-of-factly. “That’s her name.”

“She never said anything about that. How do you know?” insisted Zuko.

Aang looked pointedly at him. “Just because she didn’t tell you, doesn’t mean I don’t know. I gave it to her after all.”

Even Iroh’s stubborn, trusting smile turned to shock for a moment. Sokka spoke up. “What do you mean, you gave her her name?”

Aang’s trademark mischievous smile made its grand appearance. “I mean, I named her.” And that was that. They couldn’t get another word out of him.

When Katara returned with an airy smile, Aunt Wu told them, “I will be doing my yearly cloud reading soon. Until then, there is a lovely family that runs a restaurant near the village gate. They make a tasty vegetarian stew that I know you’ll just love.”

How did she know Aang was vegetarian? This woman, Aunt Wu or Tashi or whatever her name was, knew a lot of things she shouldn’t, but didn’t know anything when it mattered. Was she actually a fraud? She had to be. But there was something, some way she knew specific things.

The stew was not as spicy as Zuko would have liked, but it was decent. The murmur of the gathering crowd outside grew as time went on. Eventually, the friendly woman who had served them came by to tell them the Reading was starting, and escorted them out.

Aunt Wu already stood on a small stage in the middle of the town square, gazing upward at the fluffy clouds. Her first prediction was about a harvest, and Zuko lost interest entirely. He saw Katara enraptured by the false mystic. Sokka looked as bored as he was. Aang looked immeasurably proud. His uncle just looked curious.

The crowd cheered something about a volcano and began to disperse. Finally. Maybe they could get the water they had come for, and be on their way. But it looked like Aang had something to say to Aunt Wu, and he walked away without a word. He might at least try to be less secretive.

Zuko asked around the whole afternoon, looking for anyone who might know about a local spring, or a clean pond with a legend behind it, something with a possible spiritual energy. No one knew about anything. He started feeling tremors in the ground, like someone was Earthbending nearby, but no one knew about any earthquakes either. Aang didn’t return.

Volcanoes were not a new concept to Zuko, growing up in the Fire Nation. He had seen the tall pillars of smoke and ash before, off in the distance, when some far-off island in the archipelago had blown its top. But he had never been near one. The caldera that housed the capital city was long extinct. So this was his first.

Near dusk, the mountain above the village exploded in a tall plume of lava and ash. The shockwaves that Zuko had mistaken for earthquakes now rocked the foundations of the whole town, breaking windows and shaking lanterns from their hooks.

Sokka started running from house to house, knocking on doors. “We have to evacuate! The volcano is going to destroy the town!” But everyone who heard him had the same response: Aunt Wu had said the town would be safe. There was no need to worry.

Fools. Every one of them. They live on the slopes of a volcano, and they don’t flinch at the tremors? Because some nut job with a fancy house and two names said so? Zuko grabbed Sokka by the arm the next time he passed and said, “They’re hopeless. We have to get out of here. Where’s Katara?”

Just then, Katara came running around a corner. “We have to go! No one here is reacting to the volcano!” She looked around. “Where’s Aang?”

Iroh said, “The Avatar can take care of himself. Let’s go!” Zuko and the Kids nodded, and they all dashed toward the village gate, where they had left Nini. In minutes, they were in the air, watching the flow of lava descend upon the village. From up here, it looked so slow, but Zuko was well aware that it moved much faster if you were on the ground in front of it.

A white light caught their attention, as much for how small it was as how bright. It was Aang, standing sentry on an outcropping of rock just up-slope from the village. His eyes shone in the false darkness of the ash-clouded dusk.

He made sweeping motions to either side, and a long trench opened in the rocky mountainside. As ash began to envelop him, he summoned the wind bubble and made it big enough to protect the entire small village. The lava struck his trench and began to follow it in either direction. Splashes of lava started small fires, but none of them were able to penetrate the bubble.

The volcano roared again, protesting this small human who dared defy its might. A new layer of red-hot rock came sliding down the mountainside, faster this time for being on top of the previous layer. It hit the trench and splashed up, filling and threatening to breach the near bank. With a mighty heave, Aang summoned a wall of earth around the upper half of the village. It obviously took a toll on his still-wounded shoulders; he let his arms hang limp for a few moments while he watched to be sure the volcano was satisfied.

And then it became clear to Zuko, Aang had just fought a volcano at the drop of a hat, and won. Handily. He may not have even needed the Avatar State if he hadn’t been injured by the Yuyan archers just days before. What other feats of madness were within the Avatar’s power? And how was the Fire Nation going to subdue him for the timeframe necessary to win the war?!


	14. Bato of the Water Tribe

Zuko was getting very tired of walking. Katara kept insisting she and her brother were well enough to fly, but every time they tried the coughing forced them down. So here they were, walking along the beach, going vaguely Northward. He tried to be patient. His uncle was singing a bouncy marching tune, something about a road going ever on and on, and Aang had picked up the pattern quickly and started humming along.

Aang paused his humming, and Zuko looked over to see what might be wrong. On the back edge of a sooty, fire-seared rock, lay a whale-tooth spear with a blue leather-wrapped shaft. He picked it up, and Sokka and Katara grew wide-eyed.

“That’s a Water Tribe weapon!” said Sokka, reaching for the shaft. Aang handed it to him without objection. “Look, Katara, it’s one of ours!”

“What happened to them?” the girl asked, clearing scorch marks from the blade.

Iroh pointed out a trail of broken branches, disturbed sand, and scorched rocks and shells. “It looks like a battle.” He traced his fingers over a knife wound in a scorched tree trunk above the high-tide line. “The Firebenders were followed, and pushed back to the seashore.”

Sokka’s face fell when he realized what the empty beach meant. “So where are they?” he asked softly, staring at the unbroken horizon.

Aang patted the boy’s shoulder. “We might be able to ask someone,” he said, and pointed to the side, down the beach toward a large rock that acted as a breakwater, preserving a wider sand beach that now housed a beached Water Tribe cutter.

“A ship!” Sokka exclaimed, and he and his sister sprinted off down the beach.

Katara’s excitement echoed back along the beach. “Is that Dad’s ship?”

“No,” said Sokka as he approached the cutter, “but it’s from his fleet.” He lovingly stroked the hull. “Dad was here.”

Aang, Iroh, and Zuko caught up to the siblings. Iroh traced the scars of old, well-repaired damage on the hull of the cutter. “This ship is well cared-for. Someone may still be here with it.”

Zuko scowled and set down his pack. He knew what was coming next. Aang was so predictably capricious. “We can stay here for the night,” the Airbender said. “Maybe someone will come back.” Zuko went to find driftwood and dry branches for the fire.

It was after dusk and everyone had cups of evergreen tea when they heard footsteps approaching in the sand. Ambush? Zuko’s eyes flashed around in the darkness, trying to spot the approacher. “Who’s there? Show yourself.”

A tall, lanky man in torn blue clothes, with thick bandages covering most of his visible torso and left arm, emerged from the oceanside forest. “Sokka?” he whispered into the night, clearly hopeful that this was not some dream.

Sokka’s wary stance softened, and his hand fell from his boomerang. “Bato?”

“You know him?” asked Zuko, apparently to no one.

“Bato!” cried Katara, leaping to her feet and dashing across the sand.

The siblings crashed into the man one after the other, and he embraced them whole-heartedly. “Sokka! Katara! It’s so good to see you two!” He leaned back to get a good look at them. “You’ve grown so much!”

Aang called out from his seat by the fire. “Bato! Why don’t you join us for some tea?” He moved aside to open a space for the Water Tribe warrior beside him.

“Aang? Is that you?” Bato said incredulously, stepping into the circle of light cast by the small campfire. “I haven’t seen you in, what is it now, five years?” The man paused at the edge of the light and turned a suspicious eye on Zuko and Iroh. “Since when do you travel with Firebenders?”

Aang sighed. “Iroh, my friend, the fire is too hot for its size.” A chill crept into the air around them. “It’s a long story, Bato. How about some tea before you decide if you want to hear it?”

Bato nodded, but his eyes traced Zuko’s face, memorizing it’s distinctive features. Zuko met his stare without a flinch.

Sokka and Katara trailed after Bato like newly-hatched turtleducklings as he approached the fire. “Where’s Dad? Is he here?” asked Sokka eagerly.

“No,” Bato soothed, “he and the other warriors should be in the Eastern Earth Kingdom by now.” The siblings looked crestfallen, and they all shivered under a gust of wind off the sea. The old warrior sighed and turned an apologetic smile on Iroh. “I wouldn’t mind if a friend of Aang’s was able to make things a little more comfortable.” The chill of the Northern seabreeze abated, and Zuko could see the core of the campfire glow a little closer to white than the orange around it.

They spent the evening telling old stories about Bato and his friend Hakoda, who was the Water Tribe siblings’ father. Most of them were uninteresting, and Zuko cared very little to hear them, aside from the information that all the warriors of the Southern Tribe had left to join the main warfront about three years ago, and that Aang had spent quite a bit of time in the Southern Tribe, of and on, for the last ten years or so. The only other time he tuned in was when Katara had exclaimed “Really? When?”

Bato answered “Any day now. Your father said he’d send a message when they found the rendezvous point.” A strategic military position? He might be able to pass an anonymous tip to a guard somewhere. “If you wait until the message arrives, you can come with me, and see your father again.”

Zuko heard a soft noise from Aang and looked at him in the dancing firelight. What was the man thinking? His face was guarded, but somehow sad. His eyes were trained on the kids. Was he worried they would want to go with Bato instead of him? Why didn’t he just say something?

Sokka looked forlorn. “It would be great to see Dad, but we can’t.” Katara looked quizzically at her brother. “We have to get to the North Pole so Katara can take her Waterbending mastery test.”

Bato cast a proud gaze on the young girl. “You think you’re ready?” he pried “You’re not far from the Northern Tribe now.”

Katara blushed. “I hope I’m ready. Aang is the one teaching me, and he says I should try.”

“Taught by the Avatar, eh?” Bato patted her shoulder. “There’s no way you can fail. Your father will understand, and he would be so proud that you came all this way to become the first new Master Waterender in the Southern Tribe.”

Another sound drew their attention to the distant sands down the beach. A steady, rhythmic thumping grew nearer. Was that two sets of feet? Four? Eight?! Zuko jumped to his feet.

A furry beast with a finger-lined, mole-like nose came barrelling through the darkness. Chasing after it were six komodorhinos with clearly Fire Nation livery on their saddles. Each rhino held one man, each clearly a capable fighter with the oddly-shaped weapons they wielded. Just before the herd of beasts came to a sliding stop in the sand, an arrow sprouted from the ground between Zuko’s feet, perfectly centered. A Yuyan Archer? Hadn’t they all been crushed under the fortress?

“Well, now, it looks like you’ve earned your pay,” said a familiar, slithering voice from atop the lead rhino.

A woman’s voice resounded from the back of the furry tracker beast. “I’ll take that now, if you don’t mind,” she sneered. “I need to get back to my poker game.” Zuko saw the shadow of a large bag tossed from the rhino to the tracker beast, and heard its contents jangle like coins.

Zuko thought he heard Aang’s voice from far away, but he could see the man standing beside him. He strained his ears to hear the Airbender call “Tomei? Is that you and Nyla?”

The tracker beast stepped forward into the faint edges of the firelight. The only reason Zuko knew what the woman rider said was the practice he’d had reading lips while he was deaf after the explosion. “It’s June, now. And you aren’t focused enough, Father, the boy there can still hear you.”

Zuko looked down, and saw the fine line of organized wind, right where he thought it might be. Aang was playing with sound. Zhao would have heard nothing but the crashing waves on the beach. The tracker beast bounded off into the evergreens, and Zuko noticed the sound of its footsteps change as it crossed the sound barrier. The woman’s voice echoed through the trees now. “You’re in for a fight, old man.” Zuko wasn’t sure if she was talking to Aang or to Zhao.

Clearly, Zhao thought the comment had been for him. “Oh, this won’t be much of a fight.” He kicked his komodorhino a few steps forward, and the other rhinos spread out in a circle, trapping the whole group against the hull of the Water Tribe cutter. “You took us by surprise at Yuyan, Avatar.” The Admiral leaned in on Aang’s title, giving the word a derisive edge that said Zhao absolutely thought himself better. “I imagine Vachir would like a rematch.”

Zuko heard the sound of a heavy bow being drawn to full. His shoulder throbbed. Aang stood stock still, except one foot, slowly twisting in the sand. No one made a sound.

Then, the sand beneath the rhinos gave way, sinking all six of the hulking creatures up to their shoulders. Zhao and the other rhino riders leapt from their seats. Only one leapt upward to stand on the back of his mount. The others immediately sank as far into the sand as their beasts. The bowman, the Yuyan Archer, Vachir, was the only one not now struggling to pull his arms from the wet, heavy, sucking sand. He loosed an arrow at Aang and drew two more.

A swipe of Aang’s arm deflected the arrow from its target. “Into the boat!” he cried as he leapt forward to put himself between the archer and his friends. Bato and Iroh boosted first Zuko and then the siblings up into the boat, then hauled themselves up and over the rail with some difficulty - Iroh being heavy, and Bato being heavily injured.

“That way!” instructed Bato. “The walls of the abbey where I’ve been staying should be visible from the sea. Head that way.”

Sokka grabbed the tiller and Katara the main sail. “I need someone on the jib,” the boy said as Katara pulled a wave in far enough to lift them off the beach and out to sea.

Bato leaned against the railing at the front of the deck. “I won’t be much use on a ship until I’m healed more,” he said. “I can’t pull the ropes.”

After a few seconds of silence and the sounds of fighting on the beach as they floated away, Zuko growled and grabbed the rope. “Tell me what to do.”

The shore line was crowded with rocks, and they didn’t dare go too far out to sea. They had to stick close so Aang could find his way back, and so they could spot the high walls of the abbey, the sanctuary that only people who didn’t care about angering spirits would intrude upon. Sailing the ship at night through the close-packed rocks was all about quick adjustments and tight turns. More than once, Sokka had Zuko run from one side of the deck to the other, just to immediately have him run back.

A line of unbroken rock stretched out from the beach in a final obstacle, and Sokka just called, “Katara!” The Waterbender let go of the ropes and set her feet square on the deck. She swung her arms around and around, and the ship rose on a mighty ocean swell. The rocks passed under them harmlessly. Katara released the wave, and they floated into the serene, secluded bay with the walled-off religious compound standing strong on the shore.

They moored the cutter to a small fishing dock, and Zuko stared back down the beach in the direction of Aang and the rhinos. Had he beaten the archer? Had the other warriors freed themselves and joined the fray? Would he have to go free Aang again?

Bato left the kids on the beach with Iroh, and went up to the abbey to get help. Zuko stared out into the darkness. His entire future, his Destiny, his honor, hinged on who strode out of the darkness. It had to be Aang. Anyone else, and he would be a prisoner instead of the Fire Lord.

Finally, Zuko heard shuffling steps in the sand. He strained his eyes, looking for the spiked shoulder pads that meant he was doomed. But instead, long, gray hair and tattered, blue clothes slowly emerged from the shadows. Zuko let out a long, relieved sigh.

The group retreated into the walls of the abbey. Aang had managed to retrieve Katara's lost necklace from Zhao, and handed it back to her amid the girl's exclamations of joy and thanks. The Mother Superior greeted them with open arms and hearty thanks to the Avatar for gracing their humble abode. “May we offer you water, a place to rest,” she pushed, “maybe a seamstress to repair your garments?”

“That would be wonderful, Mother Superior,” Aang answered quietly, allowing one of the Sisters to lead him away. Zuko watched them go, determined not to lose track of the Avatar again. His uncle pulled him down a different hallway.

At breakfast the next morning, Bato stood and waited for everyone’s attention. “I want to thank you all, and especially the Mother Superior, for sheltering us, feeding us, and helping us heal. And while I cannot go with these children,” he motioned to Sokka and Katara, “I believe the Spirits of Water will.” It seemed like a ceremonial proclamation, and Zuko saw disbelief and wonder egin flooding Sokka’s face. “Katara is on her way to the Northern Tribe to complete her journey to becoming a Waterbending Master!” The sisters were surprised, but supportive with scattered cheers. “But her older brother is also awaiting his rite of passage. You were too young to go ice dodging before we left, weren’t you, Sokka?”

The boy’s face lit up, and Bato smiled. “What you accomplished yesterday, in the dark and under pressure of an attack behind you, more than qualifies. If the Spirits will forgive the place and company, I’d like to bestow your Marks.”

Sokka stood with tears in his eyes. Katara got to her feet beside her brother, and they moved in front of Bato, who picked up a small bowl from the table.

“Spirits of Water, bear witness to these Marks,” he intoned. “For Sokka, the Mark of the Wise, the same Mark your father earned.” He dipped his finger in the bowl and drew out a black liquid. He drew a symbol like an eye on Sokka’s forehead. “For Katara, the Mark of the Brave. Your courage inspires us.” He drew a crescent moon on her forehead. “And for Zuko, the Firebender who took the jib when he was needed,” he motioned Zuko to rise and join the kids. 

Zuko shook his head and kept his seat. His uncle jabbed him under the table with his toe and pushed him up. “You have earned an honor from these people. Go and receive it.” He knew his uncle wouldn’t let him sit down, and he couldn’t just leave, and Aang was looking at him from the other table with that intense, watchful stare that made him uncomfortable. It only took a few steps, and he was there, beside Katara. He shut his eyes and let Bato continue.

“For Zuko, the Mark of the Trusted. You are now an honorary member of the Water Tribe. May we always be able to rely on you to do what is necessary when the time comes.” He felt Bato’s finger trace a shallow arc on his forehead, and knew he looked foolish. But what was he supposed to have done? They might all have been injured or killed if they had stayed close.

He kept his mouth firmly shut as he returned to his seat. He caught Aang staring intently at him. What was that in his eyes? Pride? No, it looked more like suspicion, but that wasn’t quite right either.

Iroh followed his nephew’s gaze and sighed. “Ahh, yes. You have earned a measure of trust, but now there is also expectation.” He picked up a bowl of warm stew. “You can accept it, or not. But they have given you a great honor. It is not often the Water Tribes induct honorary members.”

A courier knocked on the open door, and handed a Sister a scroll. That would be the message from Hakoda about the whereabouts of the Southern Water Tribe fleet. The Sister handed it to Bato, who read it and smiled. Zuko kept his seat. There would be another opportunity.


	15. The Deserter

Finally, they were flying again. Nini seemed thrilled to be back above the clouds. Aang seemed more himself, cheerful, calm, and talkative. He told stories all day, about the times before the War, about happy little families he had known or helped since, and sometimes about events Zuko was fairly sure hadn’t happened in the Airbender’s lifetime.

One story that really stuck with Zuko, that rattled around in his head for hours after Aang finished telling it, was one about the direct aftermath of the Comet-fueled destruction of the Air Temples.

The Monks had known something was going to happen for years. They had seen the writing on the wall, after the death of Avatar Roku. They had sheltered Aang as a child, hiding him from the world, not announcing his presence at any one of the Air Temples, and not mentioning his nomadic wanderings through the other Nations. But that hadn’t been enough.

The day of the Comet arrived, and the inhabitants of the Southern Temple could see the approaching army. They were using basic grappling hooks to get as high up on the mountain as they could, and when the Comet began its pass, to everyone’s horor, they started propelling themselves upward with just Firebending. Children were loaded onto Flying Bison and sent away, but one by one the Bison were shot down.

Monks Pasang and Gyatso had known that Aang must survive. Pasang had wanted to send Aang to one of the other temples weeks ago, but Aang himself had refused, and now they were under attack. The two older Masters had ushered Aang into the lower tunnels, the storerooms and natural caverns beneath the Temple, but the Fire Nation followed and pushed them farther.

His mentor Gyatso and his Master Pasang had made a decision. They backed into an offshoot tunnel that vented out to the side of the mountain. When the ranks of Firebenders closed off the only exit, Gyatso had turned to Aang, grabbed the boy’s glider, apologized, and shoved him out into the open sky.

Aang’s bonded Bison, Appa, had caught him far below, and the two had walked on foot through the tall spires of the Southern island mountains. After the Comet passed, Aang and Appa had flown in secret to each of the other Temples, and the twelve-year-old Avatar had seen the fresh devastation the Fire Nation had wrought. For months after that, he had left Appa at the Eastern Temple, the Bison’s birthplace, and wandered as a nomad again, searching for the other wandering Airbenders. Time and again, he was too late, only finding charred corpses. At sixteen, when a normal Avatar would just be discovering their destiny, Aang had given up hope of finding his people and begun the lonesome work of learning the bending disciplines pieces at a time, from travellers, performers, and helpful families that would shelter him for a night or two.

The story left Zuko speechless. Pieces of it were familiar, of course; the attack on the Air Nation Army was commonly taught in school and referenced in conversation as one of the greatest military achievements of any Fire Lord, the crowning achievement of Fire Lord Sozin’s long and glorious reign. But this sounded like a slaughter. According to Aang, there had been no army, no defenses, no battle. Just ruthless soldiers shooting children from the sky and chasing down stragglers.

Was Zuko’s view of things just? Was it even true?

Aang’s incessant chatter left plenty of time for Zuko to zone out and process the new information. More than likely, the truth was somewhere in the middle. There was no way a traumatized twelve-year-old would remember an event like that accurately.

Zuko came back to himself when Nini began to descend to the ground. “Why are we stopping?” he asked, but no one was looking at him. Iroh and the Water Tribe siblings were pressed to the front of Nini’s saddle, looking ahead at something. With an exasperated sigh, Zuko stood and walked forward to get a look at what could be so interesting.

Below them, in a valley surrounded by forests and foothills, stood a large, walled city, adorned with scarlet and gold banners, flags, and sparkling decorations. It quickly fell out of sight behind a hill as Nini descended, and Zuko leapt from her back as soon as her feet touched down near the main road. He backtracked up the road a few meters and found what he expected - an informative road marker, with announcements, events, and Fire Nation Wanted posters. The city was part of the Great Northern Colony. Officially, they were in the Fire Nation again.

Zuko’s elation faded as he saw the Wanted posters on the trail marker. There were several there that were older, depicting Army deserters, local criminals, and the like. There was one of Aang, of course, with long gray hair and clearly visible tattoos. The Water Tribe siblings had one poster for them both, sporting a drawing of them standing side-by-side, both Waterbending. There was one with Iroh in full General’s finery, and one of Zuko in Crown Prince’s robes, with particular attention paid to the detailing of his scar. The last one, in the bottom corner of the bulletin board, was one with no details or information, but just a depiction of his mother’s Blue Spirit mask. So Zhao hadn’t connected him to the destruction of the Yuyan fortress. That was a plus, at least. One less example of treason Zhao could levy against him.

Katara’s voice echoed from the other side of the informative pillar. “It’s a festival!” Zuko and the old men moved around behind Katara to see the poster she was reading. “The Fire Day’s Festival. Fire Nation cultural exhibits, jugglers, benders, magicians, and free festival food!”

Aang chuckled. “I won’t say no to free food.” He clapped Iroh on the shoulder. “What about you, friend? It must be tempting to get some authentic Fire Nation spice back in your life.”

Iroh agreed with a hearty laugh, and Zuko’s mouth watered at the very thought of some properly spiced meat, or even some cheap fire flakes. Anything with a good kick to it.

Meanwhile, Sokka had meandered around to the Wanted posters, and spoke up. “As much as I would enjoy some free food, it might not be a good idea.” He pointed to the detailed illustrations of each of them as they came around the roadsign. Katara gasped. The old men just nodded.

Aang looked Zuko straight in the eyes and said, “We could wear disguises.” Zuko looked away and found the Blue Spirit poster staring at him, too. “They’d never know it was us if we wore masks. This Fire Day’s Festival usually involves masks, from what I remember.”

Katara jumped around in excitement. “Really? You’ve been to the festival before? I can wear a mask! Can we go? I want to see it!”

Aang smiled wide, but Sokka rolled his eyes and said,” I guess if we wear masks…” He got a longing look about him. “Maybe then, we can get some meat…”

For once, everyone was in agreement, then. Zuko’s stomach growled. They walked quickly down from the foothills and into the town. Everyone put on cloaks with cowls they could pull over their faces, and Zuko and Aang in particular took care to keep their unique faces well hidden. Katara quickly found a mask booth, and borrowed masks for everyone under the promise that they would return them after the festival.

Zuko quickly discovered that ‘free festival food’ consisted of lightly seasoned bits of meat on individual sticks given one at a time, and heaping bags of flaming fire flakes that were as spicy as they come. He took a handful of meat skewers and two bags of fire flakes, and savored them all as he made his way to a theatrical Firebending demonstration.

The thespian was talented. He simultaneously sculpted a stream of fire to look like a dragon’s head, while using his other hand to lasso the dragon with a fire whip and spin the whole arrangement around the edges of the stage. The younger kids in the front few rows gasped and giggled when it passed them.

A commotion behind him drew his attention from the performer, and after a second’s confusion, Zuko saw a flash of Aang’s blue clothes dart away into an alley, followed quickly by several Fire Nation guards. He sighed and stuffed a final handful of fire flakes in his mouth. He handed the remainder to a nearby kid, still enraptured by the performance, and slipped away as inconspicuously as he could, to follow after Aang and the guards.

When he had tracked them to a dead-end alley packed with fireworks and spare decorations, he saw Aang blocking the guards from attacking someone in a tattered brown cloak. Zuko ducked behind a box, and watched as Aang caught fire blasts and redirected them away from himself or the man behind him. To Zuko’s shock, Nini’s groan echoed overhead, and Aang leapt to her shoulders, dragging the stranger with him.

He had to get back to the others. Clearly, something had happened. They needed to regroup and figure out their next move. He found the siblings gawking at fireworks, and his uncle stuffing his face at the food cart, and dragged them all out the front gate, explaining what he had seen.

But before he could do much more than that, before they were even out of sight of the town, Nini landed heavily on the road in front of them. Aang seemed destined to get in the way of Zuko’s plans. Why couldn’t he just let him have this moment of command?

Aang smiled wide, oblivious to Zuko’s ire. “Hop on! There’s someone I think you should meet.” It wasn’t immediately clear who he was talking to. Zuko’s shoulders slumped and he climbed aboard.

There was the stranger! Zuko took off his mask and the man balked. “Woah, woah, Avatar, sir, I didn’t sign on to get captured by the Fire Lord’s son.” He looked in accusation at the back of Aang’s head. “Are you working for the Fire Nation now?”

Aang guffawed and said “No, of course not. Zuko was banished, and is a wanted man in the Fire Nation.”

“Really!” said the stranger. “Now, is that how you got that scar, then?”

“Too late,” Aang interrupted before Zuko could splutter out a response. “We’re here.” Nini descended over a carefully-constructed series of islands in a lowland river delta, across the mountains from the village. Evening light made the whole place glow gold, and highlighted the shadows cast by small reed-thatched roofs and rickety wooden huts.

Nini landed in the shallows of the stream, a good distance from the main river, and Aang jumped easily to the ground. He stopped the first person he saw and said something into their ear, sending them bustling away before Zuko could figure out what was happening. “Don’t worry about unpacking,” he said to the rest of the group. “I was recognized right off at the festival, so we do need to get moving quickly.” He glanced at the main river, as if checking that they hadn’t already been found. “Admiral Zhao will be here shortly to reprimand the guards who let me escape.”

The hunched old man Aang had sent off just a moment ago came bustling back, and whispered in his ear. “Good!” the Avatar answered. “We will go see him. Thank you.” He looked back to his companions, who were all now on the ground with the stranger. “Iroh, Zuko, there is someone you simply must meet.”

Sokka and Katara trailed along out of curiosity as Aang led the Firebenders through the compound to a hut in the center. It was understated to say the least. There might have been room for a bed inside those walls, but Zuko doubted it. Aang bowed with his hands outstretched like a book, an odd motion from an odd man, and Iroh took the first steps forward, putting a restraining hand on his nephew. Zuko took the hint and waited.

After a while, Zuko started tapping his foot. A while after that, he huffed and stepped through the curtained door. The inside of the hut was as barren as he had expected, devoid of anything but a row of candles, and the two people sitting on the floor on either side of the candle line. His uncle sat closer to the door, and on the other side was a familiar and notorious face.

Zuko had seen that scar above the man’s eye so many times over the years that it was a shock to see it in person. The deserter’s wanted posters were a staple of bulletin boards and message stations throughout the Fire Nation. “Jeong Jeong. I’m surprised to find you in the Colony,” said Zuko coldly. “I expected you to be hiding out in a deep swamp somewhere.”

The former military leader turned a scowl on Zuko that made him question his brash words. “All the better to keep your enemies close,” he said. “I would not have expected such a loyal Fire Nation subject to drop from the sky on a Flying Bison.” The tone of his voice grated on Zuko’s nerves, like he was mocking the banished Prince’s broken honor. Jeong Jeong squinted at the Prince when he didn’t respond. “Oh, so you do have some self-control. A worthy trait in a traitor.”

“How dare you,” Zuko breathed, then spoke up. “How dare you question my loyalty? You, who abandoned yours because you couldn’t handle hurting anyone anymore.” He stuck his finger in the deserter’s face. “You were a great General. You had everything. And you threw it away for a mud hut in a bog.”

Iroh slid himself back out of the way as Jeong Jeong stood. “You think I am disloyal by following a peaceful path? I am more loyal to myself and to the world now than I have ever been!” He stood tall, and his wild white hair made him seem even taller. The flames of the candles rose with the man’s voice. “What are you loyal to? A father who burned you? A country that banished you? Some misguided justice that kills people FOR BEING BORN?!” Zuko heard Avatar Roku’s words echo in the deserter’s voice. Is it just? He looked away. “You don’t know yet what loyalty is,” said Jeong Jeong, sensing he had won, “but you will before long. You are in the right company.” The candles dimmed, and Jeong Jeong bowed to Iroh, with his hands outstretched like a book.

Iroh stood and bowed back with the same motion. Why were these old men so odd? It was rather off-putting. His uncle led him by the arm back out of Jeong Jeong’s hut, and Aang took the opportunity to enter. Iroh said quietly, “Avatar Aang intends for us to leave under cover of nightfall, so we should prepare.”

The sun was already beginning to set. The people in the camp were gathering their things into bags, boxes, and packs. The whole little ramshackle village would be empty come sunset. “Is everyone expecting Zhao to be so close on our heels?”

“He has been until now. He seems to have quite a bit of leverage and resources to track us. It is best not to underestimate him.”

Zuko nodded absently. It was always better to overestimate someone, than to be unprepared. Fire Lord Sozin had not been prepared for the dispersal of the Air Nomads, and as a result the Fire Nation had hunted them across the world for decades and still failed to eradicate them. Zuko would do better. He would be prepared.

An hour later, when they flew off into the low, evening clouds, Zuko spotted three wooden riverboats approaching the camp from the direction of the Colony town. They had been right. Zhao really was that close.


	16. The Northern Air Temple

It was cold again. So cold. In the South Pole, Zuko had been wearing full Fire Nation finery, and had been aboard a steam-powered ship. Out here, with just his green Earth Kingdom clothes and a Flying Bison to keep him warm, it was not enough. Not nearly.

Nini rounded a Northern mountain, much wider and taller than their Southern cousins, and a familiar vista met Zuko’s eyes. The structure itself was not perfectly identical, but this was clearly an Air Temple. And this one, it appeared, was inhabited. Little dots that were too big to be wildlife spun and cavorted through the air around the tall spires of the Temple, and movement on the paths indicated even more people living in the isolated building. Had the Northern Air Temple escaped the destruction entirely?

A young boy in a chair contraption with wide gray wings flashed past Nini so close that Zuko flinched. The boy was cackling hysterically, whooping and hollering as he spun circles in the air. Aang’s smile lit his face as he exclaimed, “That’s the idea! Yeah!”

The boy dipped and twirled around Nini, and even the massive Bison grunted and bobbed about in the air in response. Zuko thought he might be sick if they didn’t land soon. Thankfully, the courtyard of the temple was drawing near. He could see people standing at the edge of the platform with wide wing contraptions similar to the one the chair boy had. As Nini approached, some of them backed up, but some of them jumped off the edge, relying on the flimsy cloth and wood to keep them from plummeting to their deaths.

Finally, Zuko felt the shudder in his feet that said they had touched down. He grabbed his pack and leapt off Nini’s back, regretting his haste when he hit the paved courtyard with enough speed to make his ankles ache.

Sokka and Katara climbed down after him, and the flying boy skidded to a stop on the flagstones a little way to the side. Aang jumped high and floated to the ground with a soft gust of wind, and the boy’s eyes grew wide. “Hey, you’re a real Airbender! You must be the Avatar!” He took his hands off the wheels of his chair while a couple of other kids nearby disassembled the glider portion, leaving the boy sitting in a wheeled chair on the flagstones in the courtyard of the temple. “That’s amazing! I- I’ve heard stories about you!”

Aang looked abashed. “Really, Teo? Your dad talks about me?” He rubbed a hand over his long hair. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’m not hiding anymore.”

If Teo’s eyes could have gone any wider, they would have popped out of his head. “You know me?” he asked, awed to quiet but elated.

Aang chuckled at the boy. “Well, the last time I saw you, Teo,” he explained, “you had just moved here as a little boy. You’re much bigger now, but your spirit is the same.” Teo’s face shone with wonder. “Come, show me what your dad’s done to the place.”

For a fraction of a moment, Zuko thought he saw something less than happy on Aang’s face as the Avatar led the glider boy into the main entryway of the temple. When he stepped through the arched doorway, he thought he saw why.

Steam pipes and wiring protruded from the walls in unexpected places. The grand murals on the ceiling were broken, cracked, and sporting stains and holes from rusted piping that had been relocated at some point. The air inside smelled of familiar coal and oil fires, and although the fountain was functional, the water looked like it was being piped away for a coolant system somewhere and brought back cloudy and smelling of decay.

Teo, meanwhile, was babbling happily about how much work his father had put into designing and constructing everything here, stringing lights and setting up the beginnings of automation, heating the air and water for them to be comfortable, even piping hot air outside to help people glide on those wing contraptions. So they weren’t Airbenders, they were just living at the temple. Zuko didn’t know if that was actually a good thing. It still meant flying people living outside the reach of the Fire Nation. And now that they knew Zhao was so close behind them…

Zuko knew the moment Aang stopped trying to be happy. He had experience with noticing the slight changes in someone’s face that meant they had crossed a threshold of anger. Reflexively, Zuko backed up two steps, and bumped into his uncle’s arm. Iroh caught him and put an arm around his shoulder.

“MECHANIST!” The unnaturally loud shout echoed for several seconds, and the ringing in Zuko’s ears felt louder when it faded. Aang stood in the middle of the most recent room Teo had led them to, an open-air courtyard with walls lined with serene statues of long-dead monks and murals of Bison herds and flocks of lemurs. One wall had been caved in by a wrecking ball, very recently judging by the clean and jagged pieces of monk statue that littered the ground and the solid metal sphere slowly rocking back and forth on a sturdy crane just beyond.

From the doorway behind them, Zuko heard a clatter and crash as someone approached. Each new sound was accompanied by mutterings and soft exclamations of surprise and frustration, as the presumably clumsy approacher made their way to the room.

Finally, a head poked around the corner of the door. The man’s gray hair was wilder than Jeong Jeong’s had been, and that was saying something. He had a scar through one eyebrow, three fingers missing from his right hand, and a grin that reminded Zuko of Aang.

Meanwhile, Aang was reminding Zuko of darker images. “What did I tell you when you came here?” His eyes were flinty and cold, but Zuko could tell that anger burned hot behind them.

“Avatar Aang!” cried the man who had so far only been referred to as Mechanist, smiling and stepping forward. He stretched his arms wide as if to hug Aang as a friend. “Why, it’s been so long! We didn’t know if you would be coming back! Aren’t you over a hundred years old now? You look better than I do…”

“Only Destiny knows when I get to die,” said Aang pointedly, with a sideways glare that would have cowed a normal man. “When you came to this temple, after the flood and the occupation, you do remember what I said to you, yes?” He turned and stood tall but looked down over the bedraggled Mechanist. “I told you to stay clear of the statues and murals. I told you,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “to be sure not to break anything.”

The relatively tiny Mechanist held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Yes, yes, of course. But we had children with us, you see? A-a-and more people kept showing up after you left, stragglers from other villages. We had to do something.” He cocked his good eyebrow. “This many people in one place just doesn’t work without some proper plumbing.”

Zuko watched breathlessly as the wheels turned in Aang’s mind. The Avatar’s eyes darted over the Mechanist, in and out of focus, making hard decisions behind a curtain of outward stillness. Finally, he sighed, and dropped his forehead into his hand. “Fine,” he huffed. “Can you try, just try, to preserve something? This temple was the hub for all the Northern nomads. It was the home of two herds of Flying Bison, and hermit crabs with unique markings not found anywhere else in the world.” He took the smaller man by the shoulder and turned him around to face the door. “This very room was the site of a spectacular Summer Solstice festival. I hope it one day will be again. That can’t happen if you tear it all apart.”

He motioned for the rest of them to stay while he led the Mechanist from the room, and the man replied, “I understand, but I also know that you understand the weight of hard decisions. Now that you’re here, I am anxious to talk to you about a situation that has been…” His voice trailed off down the hall.

Zuko stared after them, loathe to once again allow the Avatar out of his sight, but what was he supposed to do? He was along for the ride until something drastic changed. He looked up at his uncle. “What do we do now?”

Iroh stroked his beard and mused, “I could show you how to properly use that shield technique you and Avatar Aang have taken such a liking to.” He winked down his nose at his nephew. “Even a weak version was able to save your life; imagine what a strong one could do.”

Zuko grinned. “That sounds like a great idea.”

The two Firebenders found a secluded room in one of the adjacent towers that looked like it had been outfitted as either guest rooms or a sick ward. Either way, there was no one using it right now. They moved all the beds, wall hangings, and other furnishings out into the hallway to keep them safe from stray flames, but Iroh insisted on beginning without fire, so he could see and correct any missteps in Zuko’s form.

By evening, Zuko had earned only grudging praise of minor details of his form. He was sure the shield would work, but his uncle was just as sure that it could work much, much better. Aang had been completely impervious to all attacks when he had used a forward-facing half shield both at the Yuyan fortress and at Avatar Roku’s temple. Zuko had suffered ear damage and had been blown several meters by the explosion of blasting jelly. He was determined to do better.

As at the Southern Temple, Aang used the resources available nowhere else to make a traditional Air Nation meal. His guest list was significantly longer here, including all of the refugees that inhabited the temple, so he enlisted the help of several able and willing culinary apprentices. The rest of the guests took seats at packed tables in the ancient dining hall. They were not disappointed

Before long, savory smells filled the room, and the conversations that had echoed off the bare walls and ceiling died down to more of a dull roar. Aang’s group of helpers came crashing through the doors carrying piles and piles of dumplings and pies, and the noise of it all meshed perfectly with the crowded, cheerful atmosphere.

Aang himself stood off to one side and whistled for attention then waited for quiet. “Here in the Northern regions, traditional Air Temple food included the bountiful harvest from the sea, as well as the Northern varieties of fruits and vegetables cultivated here in the lower levels of the temple. Tonight, please enjoy some traditional kelp dumplings and savory peach pie. Dessert will be macaroons made from the temple’s walnuts, and plenty of tea.”

His helping hands placed trays of food on the tables, and everyone reached in to take their share. Zuko heard someone at a nearby table telling their young child, “This is the same meal he made for us the night we arrived. He seemed so sad, like he’d just lost a dear friend, but he still smiled and cooked and made us laugh.”

Zuko couldn’t say the food was bad, but the spicy festival food was still fresh in his mind, and nothing here could match that. He ate until he wasn’t hungry, and left the rest for his uncle and the Water Tribe siblings to split. He kept an eye on Aang whenever he could, but the Airbender ducked in and out of doorways nearly constantly, and didn’t stand still for longer than a few seconds until the macaroons had been distributed and everyone was sipping happily on their tea.

When he did finally stop moving, Aang called for attention again. “I am sorry to have to tell you this,” he started, “but the Fire Nation is sending troops here to destroy us.” Gasps and cries of alarm raced through the crowd. “I know, I know, this looks bad,” he calmed them. “But I was twelve the last time an Air Temple was under assault. We will all be just fine.” Zuko could see the trust and determination in every face. “Sleep well tonight. In the morning, those who want to help me repel the invaders can meet me in the main courtyard. Children and anyone who does not want to fight, take refuge in the lower tunnels. I have cleared out all the natural gas and opened a chasm for it to vent outside, so you won’t have to worry about sparks or explosions.” There were serious nods from mothers and confused looks from their children. “But above all, leave what fighting you can to me. I don’t want any of you to be responsible for the death of another. That is a heavy burden, and if I must bear it, I would rather do it alone.”

Zuko didn’t know what to say. There was no way he could let the Avatar go and fight Fire Nation soldiers by himself. If Aang was captured, Zuko had to be there to reclaim him. But he couldn’t actively fight his own nation, either. He had managed to avoid direct treason so far, but this…

And more than likely, Zhao would be among the Generals leading the operation. There was no way that a military action like this escaped his knowledge, and there were too many coincidences for him to think anyone but Aang himself would lead the defense. And he was right. And Zuko was fairly sure Aang would decimate the Fire Nation forces no matter what they did.

Zuko stayed awake late into the night, pondering what to do and watching the preparations happening around the temple grounds. Sokka’s cunning tactical mind had been enlisted, as young as he was, to devise strategies for various scenarios. The fourteen-year-old had a knack for it. Zuko spotted familiar devices coming into existence under his direction, explosives, a coal furnace, even blueprints for something with a Fire Nation emblem on it. Outside, Zuko could often spot Aang using Earthbending and Waterbending to prepare treacherous, snow-covered paths to funnel the troops in particular directions. The Fire Nation would lose this battle. Zuko didn’t have to be present for it. The Avatar would win, and they would move on.

In the morning, Zuko stepped out into the sunlight, and saw Aang preparing for the day’s events. But Aang had changed. His clothes were all goldenrod-and-orange, long flowing pieces of smooth, almost silk-like fabric. On a strap over his shoulder was a long bowstaff with odd pieces of orange cloth attached to it at articulated joints. And he had shaved his head completely bald. The forehead arrow tattoo now clearly continued up over the crown of his head and down the back of his neck, connecting to whatever tattoos Zuko had seen hints of when they glowed from beneath his threadbare Water Tribe clothing. He wore a wide belt, cloth slippers, and an intricately carved necklace with swirling circle patterns that hung down almost to his waist on a chain of thick wooden beads.

This was what an Airbender was supposed to look like. This was the image Zuko had seen in history books, and what he had expected to find at the South Pole. Reluctantly, he turned away and followed the trail of men, women, and children who had decided not to fight. His uncle followed after him. They descended first stairs, then ramps and tunnels farther into the heart of the mountain, and there they waited.

As the distant sounds of Earthbending and explosions echoed through the rock, Zuko fixed his uncle in a guarded stare. “Why are we here, Uncle?”

“There are a lot of answers to that question, Prince Zuko,” said Iroh with a quick glance around to make sure no one else was in earshot. “You will have to be more specific.”

“Why are we down here, waiting for the Avatar to demolish an entire platoon of Fire Nation soldiers so we can follow him into the Northern Water Tribe, when you alone could turn the tide of this battle and we could capture him and return home?”

Iroh thought for a minute before answering. “The Avatar,” he started slowly, “is an agent of Destiny. He is the physical embodiment of the idea that balance will prevail in the world.” He stroked his beard. “I am certain that in the event of a one-on-one fight, I would lose to him very quickly.”

Zuko couldn’t believe that. “But you’re the great Dragon of the West! You turned back the Hei Bai spirit when Aang was knocked unconscious!”

“But I did not defeat it, and Avatar Aang was not trying to,” Iroh countered. “He was abducted by the Hei Bai spirit because he was needed elsewhere, not because he was weak. I suspect he never really knows where he is going, but only ever ends up where he is needed.”

Zuko scowled. “He is needed in a Fire Nation prison, so I may reclaim my honor and my throne.”

Iroh looked his nephew in the eyes, and spoke as if deep knowledge flowed through him of its own volition. “Destiny rarely takes the obvious path.” Then he shrugged. “Perhaps you will reclaim your throne only after a long and arduous journey. Perhaps you will claim a throne that has yet to be forged.”

Zuko closed his eyes and thought about that for a bit, but it grated against his expectations. Instead, he returned to interrogating his uncle. “Then why are YOU here?”

With a sigh, Iroh defended himself. “I am here in two capacities. First as your Firebending instructor, which is a role I think you would not be able to fill otherwise.” Zuko looked abashed. “And second, as your uncle, I am here to guide and protect you, because I love you.”

Zuko grumbled to himself. It was a perfectly Iroh answer. He didn’t like it, but objectively it was all true. There was no argument to be made. Another round of grinding and shaking sounds shook dust from the ceiling of the cavern, and Zuko brusquely shook it out of his topknot and brushed it off his shoulders.

Eventually, silence returned. The children grew anxious, wanting to know the outcome of the battle, and to run in the open air again. When footsteps were heard descending into the cavern from the main tunnel, all eyes turned to see who it was.

Aang emerged from around the bend, orange robes almost glowing in the gloom. He smiled wide, and it seemed to fit his face better now that he looked like an Air Nomad. “They have been pushed back.” Cheers filled the cave and people leapt to their feet to follow the Avatar back to the surface.

Zuko hoped they left soon.


	17. The Waterbending Master

Zuko remembered seeing nothing but ocean and ice for a month when he was scouring the South Pole with his crew. He remembered days of silence and unbroken waves after he had begun travelling with the Avatar. It wasn’t as purposeful this time. He had been on a mission, freshly motivated by the novelty of the scenario last time. Now, the monotonous ocean mimicked the monotonous journey he was on. Tag along, follow directions, keep an eye on Aang, rinse and repeat. Even Nini was flying closer and closer to the waves, bored and tired from the continuous two-day flight.

Then, Nini lurched as if she had caught a foot on some iceberg, and Iroh awoke from a nap with a snort. Everyone grabbed hold of the saddle, and Aang swung the reins one way, then the other, but Nini kept getting caught. She fell into the sea with a great splash, and the water turned to ice around her. Zuko grumbled. Waterbenders.

Katara called “They’re Waterbenders! We found the Northern Water Tribe!”

Aang leaned over Nini’s ear and called “Ho, Water Tribe warriors! We’ve been looking for you!”

Scattered gasps and awed exclamations met their ears. “What?” “That’s an Airbender.” “Is that the Avatar?” Now Zuko knew why Aang had grown out his hair and worn those ratty blue clothes. The startling appearance of an Airbender was ridiculously recognizable.

They were led through the icy Northern waters for another hour before they saw it. The great fortress of the North. A solid ice wall, smooth as a cut gem, etched with the Water Tribe insignia big and bold in the middle, stretched between two natural glacier cliffs. More Waterbenders stood atop the wall, and synchronized movements from them created an archway at the base of the wall. The ice tunnel was tiny compared to the wall above it, but it was big enough for Nini and two skiffs of Water Tribe warriors to float through abreast.

Inside the main wall, a series of smaller walls manned by more Waterbenders acted as buffer zones between the outer wall and the inner city. The entire structure of the Tribe was built above sea-level, and these extra buffer areas were where boats would be raised and lowered as needed to pass into and out of the city. The inner wall opened next, and Zuko got to be the first Firebender to see the inside of the Northern Water Tribe in generations.

The sprawling city stretched back from the gate in orderly lines of pristine white ice and snow. Instead of roads there were waterways, with walking paths and bridges built around them for short-distance foot traffic. Everywhere, moon symbology and flowing Water Tribe markings decorated lamp posts, doorways, bridges, houses, and street-corners. Everything here was designed with flowing curves, but there was always a simplicity to it, as if the curves led naturally to straight lines, like a river taking the path of least resistance.

Nini swam along the waterways farther and farther into the heart of the Water Tribe. They eventually came to a point where the waterways stopped and stairs began, leading steadily upward to an ice palace built out from the back wall of the glacier cliffs. Even this imposing structure held a flowing kind of beauty, each level seeming to grow naturally from the one below it, and all of it pristine white ice. Zuko glanced around to be sure no Water Tribe eyes could see him, and breathed a strong, fiery breath into his hands, the way his uncle had taught him. He stopped shivering, for the moment.

The group left Nini on the ground level, and started up the stairs to the palace with Aang in the lead. There was scrambling to either side of the grand staircase as guards and bannermen rushed to provide the kind of fanfare they thought might be befitting of a visit from the Avatar. Aang walked past them without a glance, and the rest of the group followed, until they stood inside the vaulted throne room of the Northern Water Tribe.

There were no torches indoors, so the sunlight filtering through the thick ice cast a blue hue on everything. Magnificent ice sculptures and intricate tapestries in shades of blue and white adorned the walls and edges of the wide open room. The throne itself was built back into the bottom edge of a massive, highly-detailed moon representation, with swirls of shining silver and ribbons of blue cloth stretching to either side.

The man sitting on the throne was tall and tan even for a Water Tribesman, with long black hair bound neatly in decorative clips near his face but flowing freely down his back. He rose as Aang and company entered his throne room unannounced, but he stopped when he recognized the Airbender clothing and tattoos.

Zuko expected awe and reverence from the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe, like the Mechanist, Jeong Jeong, Bato, and many others before him. But this man turned his nose up at him and returned to his seat, staring him down with a haughty, disdainful scowl. “And where have you been all this time?”

Aang did not balk at the cold reception. “And a hearty thanks to you, Chief Arnook, for the warm welcome.” He did not bow, but did hold his hands together in the Airbender style, fists touching at the knuckles.

The Chief left no room for pleasantries. “You have been alive this whole time, an Avatar born to the Air Nation before the genocide. You have allowed the War to stretch on, for a century, and done nothing. Yet you come here seeking politeness and favors?”

Aang’s cheerful face froze in a forced smile, and he spoke with more urgency. “Chief Arnook, may we discuss the matter under less public circumstances?” Zuko looked around, and saw that guards, attendants, and even regular citizens had followed the group into the throne room and were congregating in the doorway, waiting for an answer.

“No,” commanded Chief Arnook. “You will speak here, or you will be removed from my city.” Zuko saw none of his own shock reflected in Aang’s face, but the stillness of his limbs was enough to know it was there.

The Avatar lowered his polite hands. “Very well.” He stood tall and proud, looking directly into the Chief’s eyes without a trace of deference or subservience. “If you must know, it took me many years to find suitable instructors in the bending disciplines once the War started. By the time I was capable of defeating Fire Lord Sozin, his son Azulon had taken the throne instead and continued his work. Azulon already had two sons.”

Chief Arnook seemed displeased by the history lesson, but kept his silence. Aang stared him down. “With a third generation of Fire Lords already invested in the War, defeating the one who was seated would not be enough. The Great Comet, Sozin’s Comet, returns each century. The War would begin again without fail, under the younger Fire Lord. For this to actually end, for good, the Fire Lord must be defeated during the Comet’s pass. The Fire Nation must be at its peak when it is brought low.”

Zuko was aghast. Had this been the plan all along? Why let Zuko travel with him, if Aang just intended to kill his father anyway? Did Iroh know all this? The two of them had been buddies since almost the first night. How many people had betrayed him? He felt his uncle’s hand on his shoulder, and he pulled sharply away. The disgraced General had been grooming him to be a traitor to his Nation. He would face the consequences when Prince Zuko was Fire Lord.

The rest of the Avatar’s audience with the Chief didn’t matter. Zuko would be on the lookout for any opportunity now. Eventually, the ancient Airbender would make a mistake, or have a vulnerable moment. No one was perfect. He stalked behind Aang as they left the throne room, and was glad that Katara went off in a different direction. Further down the steps, Sokka also left the group to follow a heavily-armed Warrior. Good. Now it was just his old uncle between Zuko and his honor.

And Zhao, if he managed to track them here. That might be more of a problem. Zhao would come with an army.

The Prince trailed behind his quarry for some time, following him through icy streets back to what must have been a guest house. The place was in no way opulent, mostly just ice walls and basic home amenities. Iroh, the traitor, immediately set to making tea in the small kitchen area. The two old men talked, while Zuko sat in a chair and studied the Avatar.

“Zuko?”

Aang was staring straight back at him now, expecting an answer to a question the Prince had missed. “What?” he almost growled.

“I asked you what you want to do while we’re here,” the Avatar repeated slowly, watching closely for a response.

“Nothing,” he said too quickly.

“Really?” Aang pushed. “You are a member of the Southern Water Tribe, after all. This is your sister tribe. You don’t want to explore the shops, visit the training arenas, see the sights, or anything?”

“No,” the Prince said flatly. “Nothing.” He shivered, and used the fire breath he had learned to make himself warmer again.

Aang raised an eyebrow and glanced at Iroh, who shrugged and pulled the teapot off the fire. “Alright,” replied the Airbender, holding his hands up in defeat. “I guess I’ll go watch the Northern Lights myself, then.”

Zuko had walked himself into a trick. He made himself sigh and smile. “You’re right. I should relax and see the city,” he said.

Aang jumped to his feet. “That’s the spirit! Let’s go look in on Katara’s Masters test, and then we can check out the sunset across the ocean, and then Arnook is throwing us a feast, to be civil, you know, and after that the Northern Lights should be out and we can get a good look at them from the palace steps!”

Zuko kept his smile, but inwardly seethed. “Okay! Lead the way,” he said, and stood. He would be there for everything Aang did. He would be waiting when the opportunity arose.

So he followed the Avatar out of the little lodging. His uncle stayed behind to finish making tea and to have the afternoon alone for a change. Just Zuko and Aang, walking down the narrow ice roads. Surely this was his chance. His destiny would find him today.

But the hundred-and-twelve-year-old Avatar didn’t trip, stumble, slow, or even vary his pace. He walked like a spry young man in his prime. They reached the palace training area without a single misstep that Zuko might have used to capture him.

Katara was sitting on an ice stool of her own making near the entrance. Aang called and waved to her, but she looked sullen and didn’t stand. “Master Pakku won’t test me,” she stated bluntly. Aang’s quizzical expression egged her on. “The Northern Water Tribe does not train women to fight.”

“You’re kidding,” said Aang in shock. When Katara’s expression did not change, his grew fierce. “I’ll be right back.” He motioned Zuko to stay behind, too, so he sidled far enough over to be able to read both Aang’s and this Pakku’s lips.

Pakku, a much older Waterbender with long gray hair, much like what Aang’s used to look like, saw the Avatar’s approach and dismissed his class for a break. “Avatar Aang. What can I help you with?”

“You can test my pupil,” Aang said.

“You taught the girl?” asked Pakku.

“Everything I know,” Aang replied. “She is ready.”

“She could be the greatest Waterbender in the world, and I would still not test her or give her the title of Master,” Pakku insisted.

The conversation paused for a minute, seemingly at a stalemate. Then, Aang said “I had hoped that one who had eaten the fruit and tasted its mysteries would be more open-minded.” Zuko was confused. He must have misread that last part.

Whatever Aang actually said, it got through to Pakku. The old Waterbender’s eyes grew wide, and he was silent, staring in awe at Aang. What in the world had the Airbender said? Finally, Pakku closed his eyes and nodded. He projected his voice so the kids could hear him. “You want to be a Master so bad,” his eyes narrowed in challenge, “fight me for it.”

Katara’s eyes flashed triumphantly. She leapt from the ice stool and the world around her bent to her will. The fourteen-year-old girl slid along pillars of ice that immediately melted behind her and then refroze into blades, spears, darts, flat discs, whatever weapon she thought might throw the old Master off balance. He tried taking the ground out from beneath her, but she raised a platform for herself and continued. Her arms were whips, her legs melded with the ground, her movements sent shockwaves through the structure of the arena, and try as he might, Pakku could not land a single blow.

Katara became more serious with each movement. Zuko thought he saw her use movements that were not the smooth, flowing forms of Waterbending. Rough pillars of ice erupted from the ground like stones, spheres of compacted water flew at Pakku like fireballs, and superheated steam made the twirling motions of an Airbender make some sense.

Pakku was on the defensive now. He could predict and redirect any typical Waterbending maneuver, but this wasn’t Waterbending. Not entirely. The little girl had him on the ropes. After several heavy hits from what were most definitely Earthbending moves, Pakku shouted “Enough!” He braced his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. “The Avatar has clearly taught you more than Waterbending.”

Katara lowered her hands and smiled, with a note of sadness behind her success. “At my mother’s request, before she was killed,” she explained, touching a hand to her blue carved necklace.

The old Master stared at the necklace for a long few seconds, and then gave a wry laugh and shook his head. “Avatar, why do you do this? Is Destiny returned to torment me?” He looked almost in tears at Katara. “I carved that necklace for the love of my life, Kana. I don’t know why I didn’t see the resemblance sooner.”

“You knew my Gran-Gran?” Katara breathed.

“Knew her? We were to be married,” said Pakku, kneeling to look Katara in the eyes. “Has the Avatar truly brought me my own granddaughter, a full-fledged Master at fourteen, just to prove me wrong?” The look of wonder on his face didn’t make any sense to Zuko. There was no way Aang had known enough of those details to arrange this. It was a coincidence. It had to be.

Katara stayed with her rediscovered grandfather the rest of the evening, and Zuko didn’t see her or Sokka again until the feast. Sokka was led in with a troop of young Warriors, and he and Katara swapped stories about the day. Apparently Sokka had been training with the Northern Warriors, closing the gaps in his training that being alone in the South had left.

Chief Arnook used the feast for more than one major announcement. Zuko was sure he had done them in the wrong order. Typically, the biggest and most important announcement was made last, and the feast was held in its honor. But Arnook introduced the Avatar first, putting just a touch too much emphasis on how long it had been since the world had seen Aang.

So the feast was instead dedicated to celebrating his daughter’s sixteenth birthday. Yue wasn’t especially pretty, Zuko thought. The dark blue eyes of the Water Tribe were too prominent against her ice-white hair. But she did speak well, calling for pride, strength, and unity with the Southern Tribe, for mutual aid in the War. Against the Fire Nation. Against Zuko.

He didn’t know how well he would sleep in the den of the enemy.


	18. The Siege of the North: Tui

Zuko watched Aang going in and out of meetings with Chief Arnook, Master Pakku, and Iroh for three days before the black snow started to fall. Soot mixed with snow fell heavily and covered walkways, stained fountains, and discolored every bit of water in the city.

That morning had been dull and repetitive. Sokka had gone off with the Princess Yue, who was already betrothed for political reasons and couldn’t return the peasant boy’s affections. Katara spent her time practicing Waterbending, sparring with various Masters in the city to get a feel for combat styles and an instinct for improvisation. Zuko had stood outside the door of the council chamber, waiting for Aang to reemerge.

But now there was ash falling from a clear sky, and a lot of it. He pushed aside the curtained entrance to the council chamber and ignored the protests of the Waterbenders. “The Fire Nation is here.”

His uncle definitely knew what that meant. “How many, and how long until they are within range?”

They are not within sight yet,” Zuko reported, “so we should expect them no earlier than mid afternoon. But judging by the amount of ash falling, it is a full invasion force.”

Aang’s proud expression sickened Zuko, but it was Arnook who spoke next. “You have a keen mind, young Zuko, and an instinct for large-scale battle.” The Prince looked in surprise at the leader of his enemies. “You have obviously met Firebenders in battle before. Why don't you sit in on the Council. Your input might be of use.”

The reminder of his scar was like a blow to the gut, but Zuko could take it if it meant he was involved in the planning of his enemies’ defenses. He bowed his head silently and took a seat at the table, near his uncle.

Pakku continued the council discussion. “My Waterbenders are ready to fight. They will split into three teams: the forward attack group which will go beyond the gate to disable ships in the sea, the wall guard which will repel Firebenders and attacks when they reach the wall, and the rear support which will remain behind the gates of the palace itself, rested and ready to make a strong defense against any weary Fire Nation soldiers that might make it that far.”

Aang nodded. “Each group should be balanced between Masters and those not yet tested. The rear guard will feel like they are being sidelined, but their position is crucial, and they must be both ready and able to put up the fight of their lives.”

Iroh added, “It is also important to keep in mind that the invading force will not be composed solely of Firebenders. And that your defensive force does not need to be composed entirely of Waterbenders.” He looked between Aang and Pakku, and then directed his statement to Arnook. “Your non-bender Warriors will still be able to do a lot of good, even with the full moon drawing near and making your Waterbenders that much more powerful.”

Chief Arnook looked back and forth between the old Masters, and then turned his attention to Zuko. “Do you think we have missed anything?”

The banished Prince felt ice in his stomach. He hadn’t been in a war council meeting in three years, and the advice he had given then had led to disaster. He chose his words carefully, and spoke slowly. “Unless you spoke of it before I entered the room,” he began, knowing full well he had heard nothing of the sort, “you have yet to consider options for retreat, in the event that you are outmaneuvered.”

The Chief looked Zuko in the eyes with a challenge. “Do you expect us to be outmaneuvered in our own home?”

Zuko’s breath caught in his throat, but he knew his logic was sound. He glanced at his uncle, who nodded encouragingly. “Not at all, Chief Arnook,” he began cautiously, “but Admiral Zhao has been following us for almost two months now, and always has a new means of attack. He is clever, and never unprepared. It would not do to underestimate him.” His traitor uncle nodded in praise, and in spite of himself, Zuko couldn’t help but feel some relief.

Chief Arnook was naturally a cautious man, and took Zuko’s assertions seriously. He sat in silence and contemplation for so long that Zuko thought he might not speak at all. Then, he looked up at each of them. “There is not an established way out,” he started, “but the glacier is just ice. Teams of Waterbenders could easily carve passages back into the cliffs to get people to safety.” He turned his eyes up meaningfully toward the Avatar. “If even remotely possible, I would rather be destroyed and destroy the enemy alongside, than be forced out and hunted down one-by-one.”

Aang’s dark memories clouded his face, and he nodded with uncharacteristic seriousness. “Your city is well-designed for a long siege, and heavily fortified. More than likely, it will not come to that.” The Avatar’s words were having a visible calming reaction on the Chief. “Should things get that far, there are steps that I can take.”

Chief Arnook nodded and stood from the table. “Very well. I will begin readying the Warriors. Master Pakku, assemble and assign your Waterbenders. We will not be caught unprepared.” The old Masters nodded and stood to follow the Chief from the room.

Zuko leapt to his feet, a moment too late, and settled into a steady walking pace behind Aang. He followed the man as he traced a path back and forth from one side of the palace to the other, along the gentle curve between the two sides of the jagged glacier cliff. When he got to one side, he would go up a level and head the other way, almost like he was tracking something.

A horn blew far in the distance, and Zuko looked out from the latest balcony to see the first of the Fire Nation ships had crested the horizon. The smoke cloud filled the Southern sky completely. How many ships, captains, and crew had Zhao conscripted for this? The Water Tribe might actually be in trouble this time.

Aang’s voice was more distant than Zuko liked, and he had to jog a few steps to catch back up. “If you’re going to follow me around like this instead of helping your uncle, the least you can do is talk to me.” He didn’t even turn around to see Zuko’s reaction.

“You seemed busy,” Zuko explained. “What would you want to talk about?” He tried to keep his voice easy and lighthearted.

Aang seemed to take no notice. “Let's talk about home. Tell me about your friends, teachers, or people you cared about.” They reached the cliff and turned to take the stairs to the next level.

Zuko thought for a moment. It was a simple enough question, and anyone would have had some kind of answer to it. “Well, there weren’t very many kids in the palace with us growing up. Azula had handmaids that followed her around and sorta became friends with her.” They reached the next landing and started back the other way. “One of them, this girl Mai,” he rubbed the back of his head, “she didn’t hate me, at least. Even though I knocked her into the fountain once.” He fell silent, hoping Aang would let him stop talking.

At the very least, the Airbender let the silence continue. They reached the other cliff and started up the stairs. They were very high in the palace now, and Zuko could look out on the ocean and see the first full line of Fire Navy vessels. That was just the first line? The Water Tribe was definitely in trouble. Zuko’s skin tingled.

“Here we are,” said Aang. He turned away from the sprawling vista of Water Tribe city and Fire Nation armada, toward a small, nondescript wooden door set into the high glacial wall. “This is the center of all spiritual energy in this area.” He turned and gave a quirky smile. “Your seriousness was clouding my sense of where this was. Thank Mai for me, the next time you see her.” Zuko flushed with anger. Aang had manipulated him.

Nini’s familiar groan drew both of their attention as she touched down on the balcony behind them. Sokka had stretched her reins up so he could sit comfortably in the saddle, and Katara and the Princess Yue sat beside him. The Princess’s white hair still shined pure in the yellowing afternoon light, and her warbling voice betrayed only a hint of uncertainty. “Avatar, we need you. The first attacks have begun, and the damage to the outer wall is severe.” She clambered down and looked around, realizing where they all were. “How did you find this place?”

Aang smiled kindly at her. “Many times in my life, I have had to follow spiritual energy to its source. This is a powerful place,” he said. “May I enter through the door here?”

The Princess scrambled forward to open the door. “Of course, Avatar Aang. Please watch your head.” She knelt down to open the tiny, circular door, revealing a circular tunnel back into the wall of the glacier. Aang pulled up the hem of his orange robes and crawled into the passageway.

Sokka and his sister had climbed off Nini’s back and now came up to Zuko. “Where’s he going? We need him at the Wall.”

Zuko knelt on the ice to follow Aang. “No idea. Ask him.” He climbed into the tunnel.

The icy passageway was short, and opened up into a sort of natural room, open to the sky but surrounded on all sides by glacier cliffs. A thin waterfall on the back wall filled the area with fresh icemelt, leaving an island covered in green grass and a tree in the center of the cove. In the center of the little island, in a pond with steep walls and one side squished in, swam two very large koi fish, one white with a black splotch on its head, the other black with a white splotch on its head.

Zuko stepped forward, feeling the tingle on his skin give way to warmth like he hadn’t felt in weeks. The sky above them was a deep orange now, and if Zhao was half the tactician Zuko thought he was, he would halt his attack until morning. The moon was nearly full tonight, and beginning to poke up above the edge of the glacier to bathe the isolated cove in silver light.

Aang stepped carefully across the stepping stones to the little green island, and took a seat beside the pond. “Yue,” he began softly, “please tell your father and the other Warriors to do their best.” He put his fists against each other in the Airbender fashion. “I have been drawn here. There is someone in the Spirit World I need to talk to, and it is always important. The Water Tribe has always been very close to the Moon and Ocean Spirits. They may want to help.”

Yue’s blue eyes grew wide. “You’re going to the Spirit World?”

Katara’s voice was worried. “Is that a good idea right now?”

“Relax,” said Aang with a smile. “Katara, I’ll have you to protect me. And the Water Tribe will have Sokka to protect it.” He took a long, slow breath and closed his eyes. “I know it will be okay.” He settled into silence, his tattoos lit up like the moon, and he said no more.

Zuko let a few moments of silence pass before he said “You should get moving, Princess.” Yue looked up with a start and dashed away, dragging Sokka by the arm. The banished Prince stepped forward onto the island, watching Aang like always. He sat on the opposite edge of the little pond and listened to the soft splashing of the fish going around each other in a constant circle. Katara came to sit at Aang’s side.

The moon’s passage across the sky marked the time. Zuko didn’t dare fall asleep. This was more than he could ever have hoped for! Aang was away in the Spirit World, and the only one protecting his body was this little girl who thought he was trustworthy! But she was a Master Waterbender, and the moon was nearly full. He had to be patient. Destiny would show him the opportunity. It was long overdue.

The waterfall droned steadily behind them. The koi fish swam in their perfect circle. The moon tracked slowly toward the opposite edge of the cliff wall. Katara kept glancing at Aang’s every breath, hoping he would wake up. Zuko stared at Aang, willing him to stay just like this, just a little longer.

Dawn’s light tinged the dark sky a milder shade of blue. Zuko looked to Katara. He had to sell this, or she would see through him in a heartbeat. “I think we should move him.”

“What?” she asked, shocked.

“Admiral Zhao will resume his attack soon. With the numbers he has, he will storm the city. You can’t have missed that,” Zuko pointed out, sticking to pure facts while he could. “Aang can’t stay here.”

Katara’s brow furrowed, and she muttered, “There’s nowhere to go, and he has to be here when his spirit returns.”

“Do we know that?” asked Zuko, trying to lead Katara into his trick. “He has only been to the Spirit World one other time recently, and he found his way back to the hut instead of getting lost on the road where Hei Bai dropped him.” His eyes pleaded with her, but not for what she thought. “You can open a tunnel up to the top of the glacier. I can take him away from here. I am more useful against Firebenders during the day. And if you defend this place as if he were still here, Zhao will drive himself mad believing it.”

He held his breath and watched her face. The first rays of the sun drew bright yellow streaks across the sky above them. The moon had set. “Fine,” Katara agreed, finally. “Take him and head West. The glacier is wide and strong that way. When he wakes, or if the Fire Nation wins, we will find each other again.” She stood and made her way to the glacier wall. It glowed a gorgeous, bright blue in the morning sun. With a few sweeping waves of her arms, a tall tunnel opened, wide enough for Zuko to walk through with Aang on his shoulders.

Zuko slung the unconscious Avatar across his back like a heavy sack of coal. The man was surprisingly light. He stepped over the stones to the edge of the cavern and walked up to Katara’s newly-made tunnel. “Close it back up behind me. Zhao can’t know which direction I am going.”

She looked worried, but nodded, and Zuko stepped into the passageway. He stepped carefully on the ice. A crackle of ice behind him said that Katara had followed through and sealed the way back.

Zuko’s heart soared. He had done it! He was alone, with the Avatar, and he was on his way home! The ice tunnel was long and steep, but he broke out into open air with the sun at his back, and the biting wind on his face felt like the first taste of hope in three years. He walked out onto the top of the glacier.

When he felt far enough from the threat of discovery, he set Aang down and bound his wrists and ankles with his own cloth belt. A blizzard kicked up, so Zuko breathed fire into his hands and kept going. Aang’s glow lit the way forward in the ever-deepening gloom of the storm. He was finally home free!


	19. The Siege of the North: La

Zuko could tell that the sun should have been high overhead, but there was no sign of it behind the thick clouds, cutting wind, and driving sheets of snow. He was beginning to wish he had followed Katara’s advice and gone West across the stronger area of the glacier, but the shoreline was closer to the East, and he couldn’t turn back now. He wasn’t even sure he was still going in a straight line. There were no landmarks in this blizzard.

He took another step, and froze when a huge cracking sound reverberated through the ice in every direction. The glacier was weak here. It was about to cave in. He bolted. Aang’s limp form flailed around on his back as he flung his feet forward in the knee-deep snow. Each step sent new crackles through the tundra around him, and he could feel the ice giving way. This couldn’t be how it ended. He had a Destiny to fulfill. He kept running as hard as he could.

Finally, the ice stopped cracking under his feet. He took a few more stable steps and then fell to his knees to breathe his warming fire breath and to check his surroundings. Still just nothing but unbroken snow. He stood up, resettled Aang across his shoulders, and kept moving. It would be the death of them both if they stood still out here for too long.

He didn’t know how long he had been walking when he finally saw a shadow emerge from the unbroken white world around him. It was just a small stack of ice protruding from the flat surface of the glacier, some remnant of a collision long, long ago, but it was protected. “Shelter…” He angled toward it and slogged on. Aang’s feet dragged through the snow behind him.

Finally, the little icey windbreaks gave Zuko a much-needed rest. He set Aang down in the corner of one, and sat himself under another, out of the snow. A couple of fire breaths stopped the shaking in his hands and feet. “Guess we have to wait this out.” It was infuriating. “I finally have you, but I can’t get you home because of this blizzard!” He stood and stared out the way he had come, keeping himself firmly inside the little sheltered ice cave. “It’s always something. Nothing is ever easy.” He looked over his shoulder at the old man, laying on his side in the snow, tattoos glowing incessantly. “Not that you would understand.”

He remembered Aang waltzing from place to place, having food and shelter handed to him, having the solutions to problems fall into his lap of their own volition. “You’re like my sister. Everything always came easy to her.” He scowled at the very memory of Azula. “She’s a Firebending prodigy, and everyone adores her.”

Zuko grumbled to himself. Azula had accepted all of the praise and adoration, and never, not once, given any back. She had taken every opportunity to torment Zuko, their mother, the turtleducks in the pond, the servants, her handmaids-turned-bodyguards…

But she had invariably put on a smile and a sweet voice when she needed it. “My father says she was born lucky,” he said through gritted teeth. “He says I was lucky to be born.” He faced the storm raging outside. “I don’t need luck, though. I don’t want it. I’ve always had to struggle and fight, and that’s made me strong.” He remembered the explosion at the dam, the deafness, the long days drilling Firebending forms, the long nights going over the plan in his head, coming up with a contingency for everything he could think of. “It’s made me who I am.”

Zuko heard Aang take a deep breath, and spun his head to face him, prepared to deal with the Avatar’s unhappiness. But his tattoos still glowed, his eyes still flickered beneath closed lids. Zuko sank to the snow and muttered, “Guess we’ll be here awhile.”

It was hard to tell time in the featureless blizzard. Zuko had to warm himself again several times. Hours must have passed. He wondered if Katara had figured out his trick yet. The gray sky turned purple, then deep blue, then black. The full moon was tonight. There may not be any Waterbenders left to make use of it. Zhao could do what he wanted, as long as Zuko had the Avatar.

A blinding flash of light filled the tiny cave. Too late, Zuko shielded his eyes, but soon enough everything went black. For a few seconds, that was all he could see.

Slowly, the spots in his eyes faded, and there, sitting up, alert, not a glowing tattoo on him, was Aang. He was sitting on his knees, hands bound at the wrist but set calmly in his lap. And his eyes bored holes in Zuko.

“What?” demanded the Prince, speaking up so his captive could hear him over the din of the storm outside.

Aang spoke softly, but Zuko could hear every word as if the man were leaning into his ear. “Until now, you’ve equated me more to your father than to your sister, so I suppose we’re making progress.”

Zuko’s heart dropped into his stomach. “You heard all that, then?” It had been meant for the empty air, even if he had been phrasing it like it was for Aang. But some of that was more than he wanted to share. With anyone.

Aang tipped his head with a nod and said, “Meh, not so much in words, but your meaning was clear enough.” He was still bound, but he summoned a wind that picked him up off the ground and placed him standing on his feet.

Nini’s distinctive groan broke through the roar of the storm. No. No no no! He had to get Aang away. He had to get the Avatar back to the Fire Nation! That was the only way! He grabbed Aang’s bound wrists and tried to sling him over his back, but the old man was surprisingly heavy. Why was this any different from before?

“I’ll follow you outside,” said Aang, as if it were just what any friend would do, but they had to be able to get away, too. “It’s dark. When’s the last time you slept?”

“You just hush and let me figure a way out of here.” Zuko dragged Aang by inches out from the cave and into the frigid blizzard. And right into Nini’s forelegs.

Katara, Sokka, and Princess Yue sat in the saddle when the bison touched down, and Katara vaulted to the ground in a ready stance. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but let him go, Zuko!”

“Or what?” the Prince challenged. “You wanna fight?” His hands shivered in the wind, but he would do what he had to.

Aang shouted past Zuko’s good ear. “Katara, really. Zuko and I were just having a conversation about his family. There’s no need to fight.” He wrenched his arm up and over Zuko’s head, and stood on his own a half-step behind the Firebender.

Zuko saw Katara’s face transform from cautious to vindictive. “Oh, trust me. It’s not going to be much of a fight.” She drew her arms upward, and all the snow under Zuko’s feet became a wall of water, pushing him twenty feet up into the air before freezing solid. Zuko had the horrible realization that she was a Master Waterbender under a full moon.

She brought her arms down with force, and Zuko just had time enough to register that he was falling before everything went black.

His head throbbed. His shoulder throbbed. His chest felt like it had been crushed by a komodorhino. “Zhao, don’t!” That was Aang’s voice. The echo of it sounded like they were indoors. And Zhao was here.

Zuko’s eyes flew wide. The world was painted in blood. Was he bleeding? He blinked his eyes, but the red wasn’t on him. The world was actually red. He was laying on leather, on Nini’s saddle. Princess Yue was sitting in front of him, her white hair the only thing that didn’t look like it was seen through a haze of blood, watching the people on the ground intently. He was bound at the wrists but not at the ankles, by something soft and strong.

He heard Zhao say, “It’s my destiny, to destroy the Moon and the Water Tribe.” He started pulling at his bound wrists, as quietly as he could. He couldn’t take a deep breath without his ribs exploding in pain. He couldn’t move his head without getting dizzy.

Aang was trying to convince Zhao of something. “Destroying the moon won’t just hurt the Water Tribe.” Was Zhao really trying to destroy the moon? How? “It will hurt everyone. Including you.” Aang’s old, wise voice held urgency, and maybe a hint of pleading. “Without the moon, everything would fall out of balance. You have no idea what kind of chaos that would unleash on the world.”

The knot was starting to loosen. Zuko could twist his wrists around now. He dared not Firebend for fear of singeing Nini’s saddle and spooking her. He froze to listen when he heard his uncle’s voice. “He is right, Zhao.”

“General Iroh,” purred Zhao in that arrogant tone he reserved for Zuko and his uncle. “Why am I not surprised to find a traitor like you here?”

Zuko could hear the anger boiling under his uncle’s calm demeanor. “This is not treason, Zhao. The Fire Nation needs the moon, too; we all depend on the balance.” There was a long pause, and Zuko managed to slide one hand free. He hissed when the movement of his arm aggravated his ribs. “Whatever you do to that spirit, I’ll unleash on you tenfold!” Iroh’s voice resounded around the walls of the oasis. “Let it go! Now!” He wasn’t hiding the boiling anger anymore, and Zuko thought he had never heard that seriousness in his Royal Tea-Loving Cookiness before. This was a different man, the Dragon of the West.

There was a pause. Zuko slipped over the back of Nini’s saddle, hiding behind her to stay out of sight. A soft splash of water reached his ears, and the world became blue again. The moon was restored to the bright white that it was always meant to be. Zhao had released the spirit fish back into the pond.

Zuko peeked out from behind Nini’s fur and saw the anger in Zhao’s eyes. He would not lose without a fight. With a shout and a slash of his hand, flames engulfed the pond. Zuko couldn’t believe it. The moon was necessary. Tides and fishing schedules depended on it. The entire economy of the Fire Nation, and much of the meat its people ate, relied on the moon. And now, the world fell dark. There was no moon.

Iroh roared and leapt at Zhao, but was caught by several of his bodyguards. Though they fell quickly under the wrath of the once-great General, Zuko watched Zhao back away from the righteous fury of Iroh and retreat from the oasis. So he followed. This traitor would not escape the consequences of this action.

Zuko tracked the Admiral through darkened streets as he desperately tried to escape behind the Fire Nation front line. The coward. He had left all his guards behind to fight in his place. Now he was alone in this labyrinth of ice. The Prince waited for the treasonous Admiral to take a wrong turn, and leapt at him from above with a powerful Firebending kick.

Zhao jumped back to avoid the flames, and fell a level to the balcony below. “So you are still here,” he said with mock surprise.

Zuko couldn’t believe the man was still trying to play the loyal soldier. “You killed the moon spirit!” He launched himself from the balcony and lashed out at Zhao’s feet and face in turns, forcing him back step-by-step.

“Yes, I did,” he admitted with a smug smile. “There are no more Waterbenders. I am Zhao the Moon-Slayer! And I have conquered the Northern Water Tribe!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Zuko saw something that looked like a glowing blue wave of water passing by in one of the channels, making its way to the sea. If it came to that, he would deal with it later. “You have doomed all the Firebenders, too!” he shouted, dodging a fire punch and returning one of his own.

Zhao deflected and returned fire. “Don’t act like you’re the loyal one here. You freed the Avatar from Yuyan. You freed Earthbenders and defended Waterbenders.” The Admiral caught the look of shock on Zuko’s bruised face and laughed at him. “Oh, you didn’t think I would put together your Blue Spirit act? Prop swords are so decorative and distinguishable.”

In Zuko’s shock, Zhao was able to knock him off the balcony and onto a bridge below, overhanging one of the ground-level waterways. The older man leapt down in front of Zuko, pushing him backward into the high walls of the palace. Over Zhao’s shoulder, Zuko caught a glimpse of a bright blue spirit, rising from the water in a massive display of power. The spirit slashed, and three ships sank. It waved its arms and five more ships were flipped into the sea under a massive wave. It was a Waterbender, it had to be the Ocean spirit, grieving the loss of the Moon spirit by destroying the invaders. Spirits were not to be trifled with.

Zuko quickly blocked a strike from Zhao and returned a flurry of calculated attacks against his feet and face. He had beaten the Admiral in an Agni Kai before, he could do it again. He defended, attacked, and defended again. He just had to wait for an opening.

The Admiral gave a high kick, aiming for Zuko’s eyes, and Zuko ducked under it and caught the ankle, pushing it farther up and knocking Zhao onto his back. Color and light returned to the world. Was the sun rising already? No, it couldn’t be.

Zhao stared in horror over Zuko’s shoulder at the sky. “It can’t be!” he cried, and the fight seemed to drain from him. Zuko recognized a major failure for the treasonous Admiral. He knew that feeling. That meant the moon had returned.

Zuko saw the wave of blue spirit energy returning from the front lines. The Ocean spirit was returning to be with the resurrected Moon spirit. But it paused at the corner where the waterway below them met the main road. It turned toward them. Zuko scrambled back from the center of the bridge to give the spirit as wide a berth as he could. Zhao just stood there, staring at the moon.

The wave of spirit water rose from the canal and engulfed Zhao. “It can’t be…” he mumbled. For a horrible moment, Zuko couldn’t decide what to do. On one hand, the treasonous Admiral deserved to face the consequences of his actions. But on the other, the Ocean spirit was going to exact terrible vengeance on him, and he likely would never be seen again. The loss of an Admiral would be a huge blow to the Fire Nation, and especially so if they had no idea why he disappeared.

Zuko stepped out onto the bridge and reached out toward Zhao. “Take my hand!” he called, reaching farther faster as the spirit pulled its captive away.

Zhao’s reaching arm flinched away from Zuko’s hand. His face abruptly changed from shock and desperation to determination. He glowered at Zuko. And the Ocean spirit dragged him under the water. The blue glow faded, and Zuko knew he would never see Admiral Zhao again. No one would.

The world grew still and quiet. The Fire Nation bombardment of the city had ended, and what ships were seaworthy were retreating quickly. Zuko could feel every muscle in his body protesting the abuse he had given them that day. His ribs were sending stabbing pain through his whole torso. His old arrow-wounded shoulder throbbed with each beat of his heart. But he was alive, and that meant he could keep going.

He had a choice to make, and it needed to be made soon, under cover of night. He could either return to Aang, go back to following him around and waiting for his destiny to arrive, or he could give up on ever returning home, steal or build a boat of some kind from the wreckage of the last few hours, and go live a simple, anonymous life somewhere the Fire Nation could never find him.

Traitor, or fugitive? Neither got him particularly close to being Fire Lord. If he knew where his uncle was, he would ask him. Or not, the old man was clearly hiding things from Zuko. But where else could he turn? What was he going to do?


	20. The Avatar State

Zuko sat in the shade of a blooming cherry tree. Away from the Northern tundra, Spring was beginning to set in, and the warm breeze blew flower petals down from their branches and into the pond. The battle was still raging in his mind. Flashes of biting cold still tickled his fingers and toes when he wasn’t careful. He could hear Zhao’s purring voice, and see the man’s stubborn face as he was dragged under the water by the giant spirit hand. There was nothing he could have done. Zhao was hardheaded and impatient. He refused Zuko’s help, even when it was the only chance of escape.

He heard his uncle speaking, but he didn’t care to listen. The old man really was a traitor. But he also defended the Moon spirit. But he also guided Zuko into treason alongside him. He could be counted on when serious things needed attention, but the man was not worth Zuko’s trust.

Three years. It was three years ago today that Zuko had been burned and banished, sent to hunt the Avatar. And the moment it became clear that the Avatar actually existed, Zhao was sent to capture him instead. Zuko pulled the straw hat he had borrowed down over his eyes. His ear would never stop ringing. His shoulder, even healed by the most powerful bender in the world, would never stop aching before a storm. His eye…

He closed his scared eye and looked at the petals in the lake, savoring the clarity of vision that his other eye destroyed. Oh, he could see well enough. Well enough to fight, to navigate, to hunt. But not well enough to admire cherry blossoms floating in a pond, or to paint the magnificent vistas that his swordmaster had been so fond of. His father had taken that from him, in punishment for disrespect. And then he tried to take the Avatar from him.

He shut his good eye, too. The warm breeze ruffled his topknot, the last vestige of his honor. He would return home, one day. But Destiny rarely took the obvious path. Never before had that been more clear to Zuko. He had never expected to calmly watch the Avatar fly away, and do nothing to ensure he could track the old man.

Zuko’s hand rested against his chest. To any of the residents of the tiny river village, he was merely holding his painfully broken ribs. But Zuko was holding a blocky, hand-carved bit of wood, hidden in an inside pocket of his new, clean green clothes. “If you need us to come get you, use this.” Aang’s stubbornly cheerful voice echoed in Zuko’s memory. He had glowered at the Airbender and stuffed the bison whistle deep in his pocket. The Airbender would come back to him, whistle or no whistle. It was Destiny.

But until then, he didn’t want to see that sickening smile again. It was bad enough when the old man had looked like a Waterbender, but the shaved head and bold tattoos were too much. He couldn’t keep acting like he was pleased as punch to ride on a Flying Bison and destroy Fire Nation outposts, either. His uncle had advised patience, and after a day of reflecting to be sure Zuko himself agreed, they had split from Aang and the Water Tribe siblings and had come here instead.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, young sir,” said a voice from in front of Zuko. He opened his eyes. “But there is someone here asking for you.”

Iroh was alert but quiet. Zuko squinted suspiciously at the thin young man. “Asking by name?”

“N- no, sir. She said she was trying to find an older gentleman with some weight on him, and a young boy with a scarred left eye.”

She? He sighed and stood. “Very well. Show me to her.” He heard his uncle protest behind him, but ignored it. The young village man bowed his head and walked off down a corridor in the large building. They took two more turns before stopping at the door of a large living-space with no candles and a lot of seashells. Zuko stepped into the gloom far enough to allow his uncle through the door behind him.

“Hello, brother. Uncle.” That voice. It grated on Zuko’s nerves like a too-flat piece of chalk screeching on a blackboard. A slim figure sat in a chair in the corner of the room.

Zuko glared. “What are you doing here?”

She held up a shell in her long fingers, and brushed her perfect black hair back behind her ear. “In my country,” she explained, “we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions.” She stood and stalked forward. “Have you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?”

The pet name only angered him. “Don’t call me that!” He stomped toward her and pointed a finger in her face. She had no idea how hard he had been training. She had no idea what he was capable of.

His traitor uncle put a hand on his shoulder and said, “To what do we owe this honor?” 

“Hmm, must be a family trait,” she goaded. “Both of you so quick to get to the point.” She punctuated her admonition by ominously breaking the shell she was holding. The pieces clattered to the floor. Then, her face changed completely into a mask of honesty and sincerity that Zuko had seen many times as a child. Sometimes it was actually true. “I’ve come with a message from home,” she started, and Zuko’s heart pounded in his chest. “Father’s changed his mind. Family is suddenly very important to him.” She looked sideways at Zuko. “He’s heard rumors of plans to overthrow him; treacherous plots. Family are the only ones you can really trust.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. Was she really saying what he thought? He let the silence stretch on, and she filled it expertly. “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home.” The silence returned as Zuko processed what his sister had said. “Did you hear me? You should be happy. Excited. Grateful. I just gave you great news.”

Iroh held out a placating hand to Azula. “I’m sure your brother simply needs a moment-”

“Don’t interrupt, Uncle,” she snapped, her face now contorted with fury. “I still haven’t heard my thank you.” She turned to Zuko with annoyance. “I am not a messenger. I didn’t have to come all this way.”

Zuko was breathless. “Father regrets?” It was unbelievable. “He… wants me back?” Even without the Avatar? Even without proving himself? He was going to be allowed to come home?

Azula waved her hand like nothing all that interesting had happened. “I can see you need time to take this in. I’ll come to call on you tomorrow.” She stepped past Iroh and out into the sunset. “Good evening.”

It took Zuko several minutes to move, but once he did he was flying. His things were almost packed by nightfall. “We’re going home!” he kept saying. “After three long years, it’s unbelievable!”

“It is unbelievable,” cautioned Iroh gently. “I have never known my brother to regret anything.” The old man hadn’t packed a single thing yet, and just stared sadly at Zuko.

“Did you listen to Azula?” the Prince pushed, getting frustrated with his uncle’s unwarranted caution. “Father’s realized how important family is to him. He cares about me!”

“I care about you!” His uncle’s voice was pained and raw, and it made Zuko stop and hear what the old man was saying. “And if Ozai wants you back, well,” Iroh was clearly deeply troubled by his thoughts, “I think it may not be for the reasons you imagine.”

The idea rankled in Zuko’s mind, clashing horribly with his elation to finally be going home. Azula always lies, but even she wouldn’t lie about this, right? This was too important. It was Zuko’s whole life, his last three years of isolation and focus. It was all finally worth something. He turned his back on his uncle. “You don’t know how my father feels about me,” he insisted, letting all the stress and frustration of the last three years channel through him. “You don’t know anything!”

He couldn’t see his uncle’s face but his voice was soft. “Zuko, I only meant that in our family, things are not always what they seem.”

Ironic of the traitor to lecture Zuko about appearances. “I think you are exactly what you seem!” he hissed, rounding on his uncle and gritting his teeth in anger. “A lazy, mistrustful, shallow, treasonous old man who’d always been jealous of his brother!” He stalked out of the room with his pack of belongings before Iroh could respond. He wouldn’t sleep in that room tonight. He didn’t need him anyway. He was going home. Everything was going to be okay again.

He didn’t sleep well sitting on the stone steps outside the building. And they were still far enough North and early enough in the season that the night was long. It gave Zuko plenty of time to cool his head and think about his next move.

If he thought it through, nothing his old uncle had said was untrue. It just didn’t make any sense in this example. As with most things his uncle ever said, it could be interpreted as trying to keep Zuko safe, even though his methods left much to be desired. With a sigh, the Prince admitted to himself that although his uncle was absolutely lazy, mistrustful, and treasonous, he also did actually care about Zuko, at least a little bit. And after three years of having the old General by his side, it would be odd and maybe lonely without him. Maybe he could come along and stand trial, and Zuko could keep visiting him in the Capitol prison.

Dawn broke over the Northern mountains of the Earth Kingdom. Zuko glanced quickly at the empty hallways of the large building, then stood and shouldered his pack. He would go alone if he had to. Azula, his father, and his throne were waiting. He started down the steps.

A heavy patter of feet and the sound of labored breathing came up behind him. “Wait! Don’t leave without me!”

“Uncle!” said Zuko with a relieved smile. “You’ve changed your mind!”

Iroh patted Zuko’s shoulder, like he had so many times before, all the way back to his early childhood on the beaches of Ember Island. “Family sticks together, right?”

The familiar knot of unease in Zuko’s gut loosened just a bit. “We’re finally going home!” He continued down the steps, and heard his uncle following close behind.

They reached the bottom of the long and winding stairs and made their way through the port village to the docks, where Azula’s ship was moored. The ship itself was trimmed in gold dragon filigree, and the crew were dressed in Royal Guard plate armor that covered their faces entirely. They stood in orderly rows on both sides of the gangplank, forming an honor guard for anyone embarking onto the vessel. And at the top, silhouetted against the right morning sky, stood Azula in all her Royal glamor, flanked by guards.

Zuko led his uncle onto the gangway aisle created by the Royal Procession, and as they passed the guards moved into place behind them. Zuko thought that was a little odd, but maybe Azula was just being cautious about ringing a known traitor General aboard. She beamed at him from above and said “Brother! Uncle! Welcome! I’m so glad you decided to come.”

The captain of the ship, the only one without a full face covering, approached beside Zuko and looked up to his Princess. “Are we ready to depart, Your Highness?”

Azula smiled more sweetly and peacefully than Zuko had ever seen her smile. “Set our course for home, captain.”

Home, she had said. “Home…” It was a dream come true. They were actually going home. The weight of uncertainty began to lift from his heart.

The captain stepped forward and raised a hand for everyone on the gangplank to follow him. “You heard the Princess! Raise the anchors!” he called. “We’re taking the prisoners home!”

Everything stopped. What had he said? The weight on Zuko’s heart was back, and cold with dread. He saw Azula’s eyes flash from shock to fury.

The captain balked and stammered, “Your Highness, I…”

The realization hit Zuko like a sack of bricks. This had been her plan all along. She had lied to his face to get him aboard, and then take him to prison! Cold dread turned to raging fury in his chest, and he knocked aside the captain, throwing him into the sea. He heard his uncle dispatching guard after guard behind him, clearing the escape. Zuko chased after his sister, only enraged more by her calm, dismissive turn back toward the deck of the ship. “You lied to me!” he roared at her back.

“Like I’ve never done that before,” she chided.

Zuko had to dodge fire punches from her personal guards and send them flying into the surf below before he could follow her onto the deck of the ship. He dove for her with fire daggers like blowtorches in each hand. He heard his uncle shout “Zuko! Let’s go!” but he had to do this first.

He drove forward, yelling and striking out at his sister’s smug face. Punch after punch, slash after slash, kick after kick, she caught, deflected, dodged, or redirected his movements. She wasn’t even Firebending. He pushed harder, making her backstep, and she danced back an extra step for flair. Zuko growled.

“You know,” she started with that instantly infuriating voice she used for just these occasions when she wanted to toy with him, “Father blames Uncle for the loss of the North Pole.” She danced around a fire punch and smiled with insidious glee. “And he considers you a miserable failure for not finding the Avatar!” Zuko’s breath was steaming with rage as he tried to catch his breath. “Why would he want you back home, except to lock you up where you can no longer embarrass him?”

It was just like when they were kids. She knew what buttons to push to make him just… so… mad! But this time there was no one to stop him. Their mother couldn’t intervene now. He yelled and dove forward again. She kept blocking and dodging and backstepping. He had her. He pushed her back against the stairs, and she jumped back to the landing above.

Then, with a flash of her hand, a streak of blue flames struck Zuko in the chest. He managed to block the brunt of the burn, but it was blue! And hot! His ribs had only just healed from Katara knocking him out at the North Pole, and he had to cough when he landed hard on his side. One hit. That’s all it had taken.

Azula stood on the high platform and spun first one hand, then the other in a circle in front of her. The air around Zuko felt charged, like the tingle he had felt near the oasis, or the angry quality the air in the typhoon had possessed. What was she doing? There was a light crackling sound. She thrust two fingers straight out at Zuko.

There was a flash and the deafening crash of thunder. Iroh launched himself at Azula and grabbed her outstretched hand with his own. He cast his other hand out sideways, away from the ship, the dock, and the village, and a massive bolt of lightning streamed from his fingertips out into the open sea. With a smooth motion, he flipped Azula onto her knees and kicked her off the edge of her ship.

Zuko reeled in pain as Iroh silently helped him to his feet. It took a few breaths for Zuko to get his bearings. Iroh supported his arm until he could stand on his own and then released him. “We need to go. This will be the end of our freedom of movement. We will be actively hunted now.”

Zuko pursed his lips. He knew his uncle was right. Again. They started running.


	21. The Cave of Two Lovers

Iroh looked so strange without his topknot. Zuko stared for a moment at his uncle’s smooth hair before he climbed out of the bush and approached him. The grumble in his stomach had to be loud enough to alert the nearby town of their presence. He flinched at the cramp, but kept moving.

His uncle heard him, of course. There was no one else out here. “I didn’t find anything to eat,” he said to the gray-haired head. His stomach cramped and growled again. “I can’t live like this! I wasn’t meant to be a fugitive!” He flung his arms in frustration at the empty sky. “This is impossible!” His tired arms tingled in protest of the quick movement, and he let them fall heavily to his sides. Iroh was still crouched in the same position as before. “Uncle, what are you doing?”

Zuko stepped closer, and saw his uncle was crouching over a small bush that had an exquisite white-and-red flower with long petals curled back like a lily. “You’re looking at the rare White Dragon bush,” he said softly. “Its leaves make a tea so delicious, it’s heartbreaking.” Zuko could almost hear the heartbreak in his uncle’s quiet words. “That, or it’s the White Jade, which is poisonous.”

Zuko rubbed the stubble of hair on his not-quite-bald head, missing the topknot he had worn and cared for religiously all his life. “We need food,” he sighed, “not tea. I’m going fishing.” Hunting with snares hadn’t gone the way he had planned, and none of the plants were familiar here, so maybe spearfishing would work. He climbed back into the bushes to look for a suitable stick to sharpen. He ignored his uncle’s muttering over the bush.

An hour later, Zuko had managed to spear exactly one fish, big enough maybe for a mouthful of food for one of them, before the shaking in his hands got bad enough to make him stop. He decided to return to his uncle, to see if he had managed to find any edible plants. But when he climbed back out of the underbrush, the old man was still sitting, staring at the bush. “Zuko,” he said, his voice strangely muted, “remember that plant I thought might be tea?”

“You didn’t…” Zuko said, hoping it was true but knowing his uncle was just the type of person to risk death for a good cup of tea.

“I did,” the old man mumbled, and turned around, “and it wasn’t.” His face, hands, and every other piece of exposed skin was covered in swollen red welts, and he scratched absently at his throat. Zuko backed up a step with a gasp of alarm. “When the rash spreads to my throat, I will stop breathing.” He was so calm about it, but Zuko was starting to panic. This old Firebender was the only person in the world that he could depend on even a little. Iroh stood and held out a branch filled with pink berries. “But look what I found!” He was so excited, but he couldn’t speak clearly anymore. “Theshe are bocui berriesh, known to cure the poishon of the White Jade.” He looked at the branch suspiciously. “That, or maka’ole berriesh that caush blindnessh.”

Zuko snatched the branch from his hands and threw it as far as he could into the forest. “We’re not taking any more chances with these plants!” he yelled. “We need to get help!”

“But where are we going to go?” Iroh scratched furiously at his arms and shoulders. “We’re enemies of the Earth Kingdom and fugitives from the Fire Nation.” 

Zuko nodded and took precious seconds to think a plan through. “If the Earth Kingdom discovers us, they’ll have us killed.”

“But, if the Fire Nation discoversh us,” countered Iroh, “we’ll be turned over to Azula.”

The decision was made then. Zuko nodded. “Earth Kingdom it is.” He hadn’t known she was capable of blue flames, and then she had pulled a lightning trick. He didn’t want to know what else she had up her sleeves. Maybe they would go unnoticed, even without Aang’s help or Nini to escape on when things got troublesome.

Zuko led his uncle through the trees to a village he had spotted earlier, and the first villager they encountered recoiled from Iroh and pointed them in the direction of a doctor’s hut. Zuko didn’t even have to say anything when they reached the door. Iroh was whisked to a bench near a shelf full of creams and salves, and a young woman took one with practiced ease and began applying it to the rashes. “You two must not be from around here,” she said easily. “We know better than to touch the White Jade, much less make it into a tea and drink it.”

She gently slapped at Iroh’s hand when he reached up to scratch at his neck. He lowered the hand and feigned a sheepish smile. “Whoopsh!”

Whoops, indeed. The girl just smiled at the old man. “So where are you travelling from?”

That was too much information. Zuko stood quickly from a visitors bench and struggled to come up with a plausible story. “Yes… we’re travellers!” Ugh, that wasn’t her question.

She didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she brushed past it. “Do you have names?”

“Names? Of course we have names,” said the Prince, scrambling for a couple of common Earth Kingdom names. “I’m, uh, Lee!” That was a good one. There were a million Lees. “And this is my uncle, uh… Mushi?” He tried to say it with confidence, but the name just didn’t fit his uncle. Iroh shot him a glare, but couldn’t move or contradict him.

What he could do was add to the story. “Yesh, my nephew was named after hish father, sho we just call him Junior.” He leaned past the woman’s shoulder to give Zuko a conspiratorial grin, and Zuko glared back. He swiped his hand back and forth across his throat to tell his uncle to just stop already.

He had to stash his hands behind his back when the kind healer woman turned to look at him. “Mushi and Junior, huh? My name is Song.” She finished with the ointment and placed it gently back on its shelf. “You two look like you could use a good meal.” She slapped Iroh’s hand away from a rash again, and Zuko covered his stomach to try to hide the reflexive grumble at the mention of food. “Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

Zuko was sorely tempted, and his stomach panged with the pain of being empty for several days now, but he looked away. “Sorry, but we need to be moving on.” The last thing they needed was charity from Earth Kingdom peasants, and the risk of being identified by someone who had seen their Wanted posters was just too high.

Song frowned a bit too obviously. “That’s too bad,” she said to Iroh. “My mom always makes too much roast duck.”

Zuko sighed. There was no way his uncle would pass that up. “Where do you live exactly?”

And that was it. They were officially invited to dinner. When Song was finished at the doctor’s hut, she led them a short way out of the main village to a spacious farmhouse with high walls, and a paddock for ostrichhorses just outside the door.

Song led them inside and sat them at a wide, flat table on cushions on the floor. She brought them tea and water before her mother entered with the promised platter of roast duck. “I’m Je Tsun. My daughter tells me you’re refugees.” She sat across the table from Zuko, and he was captivated for a moment by her striking gray eyes. “We were once refugees ourselves.”

Song picked up her mother’s conversation easily. “When I was a little girl, the Fire Nation raided our farming village. All the men were taken away.” She looked almost embarrassed to be sharing the sad story with strangers. “That was the last time I saw my father.”

Zuko didn’t know what to say, but this was definitely the time to say something. The girl was missing her father. “I haven’t seen my father in many years.” That was something they had in common, at least.

“Oh,” the girl started sympathetically. “Is he fighting in the war?”

Zuko’s words caught in his throat. His father had probably been ultimately responsible for this girl losing hers. “Yeah,” he said simply, and turned away.

Iroh spoke loudly, breaking the somber mood. “Je Tsun, that is a lovely and unusual name.” He handed Zuko a serving spoon and a large kettle of soup. The Prince took it gladly.

He let Iroh dominate the conversation through the evening, and ate every scrap of food he could get. It might be awhile before they got food like this again. And clearly, with this large of a farm and only two mouths to feed, the family could handle the loss.

When the food was gone and his uncle insisted on staying to finish the tea, Zuko left the table to sit outside. It was quieter, and he missed being left alone sometimes. He sighed inwardly when Song pushed past the curtain door to find him.

“May I join you?” At least she asked, but she didn’t wait for his answer before sitting on the wood floor of the porch beside him. “I know what you’ve been through,” she started, a pitying tone clouding her voice. “We’ve all been through it.” Zuko looked up and found her staring at his scar. “The Fire Nation has hurt you…”

She reached out slowly, giving Zuko plenty of time to take her wrist and prevent her from touching his face, and he did, more gently than he wanted to.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, as if coaxing a feral dog toward food. “They’ve hurt me, too.” She reached for her foot, untied the knot keeping her pants leg secured at her ankle, and pulled up the cloth, revealing long, snaking scars of sickly pink from her knee to her ankle.

But Song had been a child when the Fire Nation conscripted her village’s able-bodied men. Why was she attacked? Even if she chased and cried after her father, why would a soldier do this to her? And why was she not more angry? Was this just normal for a refugee?! An innocent child, literally scarred by the War.

He realized he was staring at her scar the way he hated to be stared at. He looked away. “I’m sorry…” He heard Song fasten her pants leg back around her ankle and stand. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and then left him in silence and darkness.

Fireflies began to fill the darkness, flitting about and flashing their yellow lights in droves. Zuko was entranced for quite a while, watching the little lights bump around, sometimes finding each other, but most times just floating on bits of breeze and lighting up the night.

Finally, Iroh and Je Tsun emerged from the house to say their farewells. “Thank you for the duck,” said Iroh with a deep, appreciative bow. “It was delicious.”

Je Tsun returned the bow and smiled warmly at Iroh and Zuko. “You’re welcome. It brings me pleasure to see someone eat my cooking with such… gusto.”

She giggled as Iroh patted his stomach and said “Much practice.” Zuko stood and walked toward the gate. “Junior,” his uncle called from the beam of light streaming through the doorway, “where are your manners? You need to thank these nice people.”

Hiding his impatience under formality, Zuko turned, bowed with the Earth Kingdom hands, and said “Thank you.” Then he turned back to the gate.

Song called out to him. “I know you don’t think there’s any hope left in the world,” her voice quavered with sympathy Zuko did not want, “but there is hope. The Avatar has returned!”

She clearly didn’t mean for it to be the slap in the face it was. “I know,” was the only answer Zuko could manage. It was the Avatar who kept him from going home these last two months. Now it was his father. Nothing was ever easy. Even the Avatar couldn’t help him.

Just outside the gate, an ostrichhorse trotted up to the edge of the paddock. It eyed Zuko, and Zuko eyed it back. If they were going to be traipsing across the Earth Kingdom with no plan or destination, riding would be a lot more comfortable than walking. And Je Tsun and Song could live without a single ostrichhorse.

Zuko slung a blanket from the fence over the beast’s back, and swung a leg over. It brayed, but responded well enough when he kicked it forward. His uncle came out past the gate and saw Zuko’s plan. “What are you doing?” he hissed. “These people have just showed you a great kindness.”

“They’re about to show us a little more kindness,” Zuko grumbled and waited for his uncle to get on behind him. “Well?”

Iroh stood, conflicted, looking at the ostrichhorse, and then hung his head. He jumped and swung his leg over, and wrapped his arm around his nephew for stability. Zuko kicked the beast up to a trot and they left the house of Je Tsun behind, an island of lights and fireflies in the darkness of night.

Zuko thought for a long time, soothed by the steady rhythm of their mount’s talons striking the road. “Uncle,” he started, and then stopped. What answer was he hoping for? It would just drive him crazy if he didn’t ask, and Iroh was the one who was most likely to know. “Uncle, is my father a just man?”

The only noise was the steady talon-beats of the ostrichhorse, and the ever-present ringing in Zuko’s left ear. Finally, Iroh spoke with a light sort of relief in his tone, like it was a weight off his shoulders to speak about the Fire Lord so honestly. “No, I don’t believe he is.”


	22. Return to Omashu

Zuko sat beside the campfire. He hadn’t said anything since last night. The stolen ostrichhorse was grazing in the underbrush beside the road, and Iroh had managed to catch two pigeonsquirrels with well-placed fire darts, which were now spitted on sticks and slowly roasting over the small fire.

He could think of no reason his uncle would lie about this. And the only reason Zuko had asked was that he was seeing patterns of callousness and carelessness in the orders his father would give. How much of his life was a twisted version of reality, moulded to hide the cruelty of an unjust leader? Maybe Aang’s story about the fall of the Air Nation was closer to fact than he had thought. Maybe Azula had been right, and his father had no love for him whatsoever. It would certainly explain a few things.

Iroh surprised Zuko when he clambered out of the underbrush with a third pigeonsquirrel. The man could be almost impossibly quiet when he wanted to be. Zuko watched him use a sharp rock to carve and gut the animal before spitting it and setting it on the fire beside the others.

“Why?”

The old Master looked up from the fire at his nephew. “Why do I believe the Fire Lord to be an unjust man?” He sat on a rotting log and crossed his ankles. “I have known Ozai to be cruel and callous in situations that called for sympathy and grief. I have known him to be ruthless in his quest for power and control. And I have known my brother to punish logic and compassion as if it were high treason.”

“Explain.” Zuko felt cold, despite the warm Spring breeze and the flickering fire.

Iroh sighed deeply. “Do you know how it came to be that Ozai took the throne, instead of our father’s firstborn?” Zuko stared and waited. He thought he might know a little bit. Azula had pressured him into sneaking behind the curtains of Azulon’s throne room, and they had heard their father explain that Iroh’s line had ended with the death of his son, their cousin. That was the last day Zuko had seen his mother. And the last day of Azulon’s long life. Iroh spoke quietly, but Zuko could still hear the grief buried in his voice. “My son died in the siege of Ba Sing Se. And instead of sending forces to aid me, or sending another General to relieve me, he held audience with Fire Lord Azulon and deposed me.” He shook his head. “That should have waited, at least until Lu Ten had been buried. Cruel and callous, even as his own brother was left to grieve his son alone.”

Zuko didn’t dare interrupt. He could see the grief plain as day, still as strong as ever. He couldn’t bring himself to break the silence, and it occurred to him that that was precisely the point. His father had broken the silence just to cause even more pain.

“After that,” Iroh explained, “I left the Capitol, the military, and the Fire Nation for quite a while. I visited spiritual places, seeking things I could not explain. When I returned, they called me the Dragon of the West, and I was welcomed back into the new Fire Lord’s council. I watched Ozai’s plans for the occupation and colonization of the Earth Kingdom take shape. And it horrified me.” He turned the pigeonsquirrels so they wouldn't burn. “His instructions were to burn crops, destroy homes, conscript non-benders and imprison Earthbenders. Those who were taken would be put to work in sea-based factories, or dressed in Fire Nation uniforms and put on the front lines to be killed by their own countrymen. Those who were left, mostly women and children, were left with no homes and no food, often injured badly. He expected them to starve or die of exposure.”

Zuko was confused. “That’s not occupation, though. That’s extermination. Genocide.”

“You expected any less from the heir to Sozin’s legacy?” asked Iroh, raising an eyebrow. “Ozai is following in the genocidal footsteps of one of the most ruthless Fire Lords to ever reign. And he is doing it proudly.” He set a new branch in the flames. “Publicly, it is always about the greatness of the Fire Nation, but the world depends on balance, and balance cannot survive under a dictatorship. You know this, if I am not mistaken. You were watching when Zhao destroyed the Moon spirit, and you chased him down to bring him to justice.”

Justice. Was Zuko a just man? Now there was a terrifying question.

“But above all of that in my mind,” Iroh continued somewhat cautiously, “is what my brother did when compassion clashed with his plans, three years ago.” Zuko’s breath caught in his throat, and his blood ran cold. This was about him. “You were right to question the General’s plan to send new recruits out as bait. Their loyalty was to be rewarded with what amounted to summary execution. Your sense of morality and justice was too strong, even as a young boy, to let that go by unmentioned.” He removed the first two pigeonsquirrels from the fire, leaving the third to continue cooking. He handed one to Zuko, but set the other aside. “One of the most powerful Firebenders in the world looked at a young child, his own son, who had championed loyalty, and declared him dishonorable. And what’s worse, he demanded a duel.”

Rise and fight, Prince Zuko! Those had been his father’s words. But he hadn’t thought about what would have happened if he did fight. Fire Lord Ozai was a Master. What could Zuko have done? Even now, three years later, he would lose. His father had walked into that Agni Kai knowing full well that Zuko would lose either way. He would have been scarred either way. He would have been banished either way.

Iroh spoke slowly, with purpose. “You are not responsible for the sins of your father.” His eyes burned the bright hazel of a Firebender, flickering fiercely with reflected firelight. “You are your own man. You have your own destiny.” He took the last pigeonsquirrel from the fire, broke its spine in half, and handed the tail portion to Zuko. “I could not protect Lu Ten. I can protect you. And if it must be from yourself, so be it.”

The banished Prince took the animal in one hand, holding the stick with the rest of his meal in the other. What did all this mean? He had built his life around his father’s wishes, trying to earn his admiration, his approval. But all his father had ever held for him was… what? What quality drove a man to espouse loyalty while sacrificing his subjects? What quality inspired a man to trap his son in an unwinnable duel? Zuko didn’t have a word for it.

“It is okay to be confused,” his uncle said softly. “It is okay to feel lost, and angry. Even at me, for not telling you sooner, or for hiding certain things from you.” He broke off a leg from the pigeonsquirrel and stripped it of meat the same way he would have if it were komodochicken. “You can be certain that I will be here, whether you want to ask questions or throw punches.”

Right now, Zuko was just shocked. He wasn’t sure what to think. His stomach growled, and he bit into the pigeonsquirrel, but it wasn’t nearly as tender as his uncle had made it seem. And it tasted nothing like komodochicken. Nothing was easy, and nothing was ever quite as it seemed. He had learned that long ago, but he had never thought to apply it to his own family. “Are you really a traitor?” It seemed like a silly question, and not one that a traitor was likely to answer truthfully.

Iroh’s shoulders relaxed a little. “That depends on who you ask,” he said, and Zuko expected him to stop there. But he continued, “To Ozai, I most definitely am. I stopped Zhao from destroying the Northern Water Tribe, and I returned Waterbending to the world, with some extraordinary help. But,” he said, raising a finger, “by that very same action, I believe I remained perfectly loyal to the citizens of the Fire Nation who depend on the moon, and who would be devastated if the Ocean spirit were to show its grief for its age-old partner. And I think that is more important than blind loyalty to one man.”

Wouldn’t it be better,” Zuko laid out his thoughts, “and quicker for everyone, less casualties, if the Avatar turned himself over to the Fire Nation?” At least, that sounded like it made some sense, and it would mean he hadn’t wasted his time. “The War would end, the world would be at peace under the banner of the Fire Nation. Our prosperity would stretch across the world and make everyone happier.”

“You would think that,” said Iroh, “but if we follow that idea through to the conclusion, it does not end well. There have been dictators in the past, Kings and rulers who sought to become the sole power in the world, but each one was driven back. Most times, by the Avatar, the essence of what true balance should be.” He munched on pigeonsquirrel before he continued. “If the Fire Nation were to capture the Avatar, and the other Nations pledged their loyalty to the Fire Lord, what would happen to those Nations, their people, their Benders, their children?”

Zuko thought about it, and remembered Aang’s speech to Chief Arnook at the North Pole. He had reasoned that if the Fire Nation was defeated, the sons of the royal family would begin the war anew at the first opportunity. It made sense, then, that the sons and daughters of the other Nations would grow up with the will to fight, unless they were taken from their homes and shown the other side of the conflict, and their fortune to be under the rule of the Fire Nation.

But some of the children would be Benders, there was no escaping that. Benders posed enough of a threat in the War that most of them were rounded up and put in prisons. Would the Fire Nation keep babies and young children in chains their entire lives, just for being born a Bender? Jeong Jeong had been right about that. “Is there anything the Fire Nation is doing that is good?”

Iroh had finished his meal, and came to sit beside Zuko. “The Fire Nation has many good things to share with the world. Coal and steam engines, electricity, mechanical machinery, even Firebending itself can be an immeasurably useful resource and help many people. No one Nation is all good or all evil; we all have things we can share with each other. But we cannot do that by subjugating each other.”

That was something, then. Zuko’s destiny wasn’t completely out of reach. He could still be Fire Lord, and be proud of his Nation, eventually. But the road there would be difficult, winding, and confusing. And the way back might still be through the Avatar. It would have to be up to Destiny itself to show him the way. Nothing was ever easy, but that was okay. He would be stronger when he reached the end.


	23. The Swamp

The ostrichhorse’s taloned feet sloshed and squished along the muddy road. Zuko didn’t think it had rained here recently - all the trees and houses looked dry above the ground level. But the ground, roads, and ditches were swampy, sticky mud. They had taken roads that led inland to get away from the sandy, salty, misty shore, but today there was a huge swampy forest on their right, sending waves of stinking swamp gas wafting across the road, and miring their ostrichhorse in the mud.

The town on the other side of the road was full of people coming and going, stands selling foods and goods, bags, clothes, weapons that drew the eye to their sharp edges and wavy fold-forged metal. But Zuko kept looking back to the swamp. There was something both ominous and comforting about the tall mangrove-like trees, swinging vines, and bushy clumps of moss and lichen. The shadows seemed to shift and move even without a breeze.

The ostrichhorse trotted on, oblivious to its rider’s preoccupation. Zuko’s skin tingled. The shadows- sometimes they looked like people. Dark robes, dark hair, faces in shadow. It was a trick of the light. It had to be. The voices were from the people in the village on the other side of the road. His uncle had the reins today, so Zuko had nothing to do but stare into the shadows of the swamp, envisioning crowds of mysterious shadow people kicking up swamp gas with their steps.

One of the shadow people beckoned to him. Zuko blinked and shook his head. That wasn’t possible. He looked again, and the shadow beckoned. “Uncle, wait,” he said in a hushed tone.

Iroh pulled up on the reins, and the ostrichhorse slowed to a walk. “What is it?”

Zuko slipped off the beast’s side and walked toward the shadow. “There’s someone in there.” From the ground, it looked like maybe a woman. Did she need help? He stepped off the road and into the long grass, then into thick moss, and then into standing water. Zuko could see her more clearly now. Her long robes looked dark red. Was she Fire Nation? Had she recognized him? Her long hair was tied up in what might have been a topknot. She was someone of importance.

He heard his uncle call, “Nephew! Wait!” but Zuko had to know who this was. He inched closer, stepping into the shadows of the trees, but the woman still seemed so far away. He walked faster, brushing past hanging moss and vines, following her summons. He climbed over increasingly large roots and brushed aside increasingly heavy curtains of moss, but she was still so far away.

Zuko followed the shadow woman around the trunk of a large tree, and lost sight of her. When he pushed aside a tangle of vines, all he saw was tall trees and swampy mud and water all around. Where was the road? He looked behind him and only saw more swamp. He closed his eyes, breathed, and listened for the sounds of the village, the road, or his uncle, but all he heard was splashing water and the trills of birds in the canopies above him. He opened his eyes and called “Uncle!” but only heard his own echo in response.

He took a guess at which direction the road should have been, and started walking back. This was so ridiculous. There was no woman. It was a trick of the light. And there was his uncle, right where he should be, standing on a tall root. Had he tied up the ostrichhorse on the road and come looking for him?

Zuko got closer, and the figure changed shape. It was taller, slimmer, had longer and darker hair. And that topknot, that hairpiece… No… Zuko’s eyes went wide, and he felt his heart trying to leap out of his chest. What was the Fire Lord doing here? Zuko was a fugitive. He would be attacked and arrested for sure. If he survived. Stand and fight? And lose? No.

He turned and ran. It was slow going, over roots and boggy ponds, through vines and moss. And through it all, his father’s low, ominous laugh followed him, pushing him to go faster. His foot caught on a low vine and he pitched forward into the murky water he had tried to jump over. This was it. He would be burned again. He turned around to see his father’s face. Maybe he could block some of the flames, at least. Maybe he could protect his other eye.

The voice, that low growl of a voice, dredged up feelings of helplessness, and a longing for acceptance. “You betrayed me.”

“No!”

“You betrayed your entire family,” it said. “You failed, and you ran, and you DISOBEYED!”

“NO!” Zuko struck out wildly with his fist, and an arc of flames cut through the space where the ghost of his father had stood. He looked left and right, but there was no one. His breath came in quick gasps. He had to get out of here. Something wasn’t right with this place.

His feet and his heart found the same rhythm. He took to breathing at the same tempo to help slow his thoughts. Nothing about this was real. It was all in his head. It was just the swamp gas, or the light, or the catgator moving around and making noise.

Finally, he slowed down. He had to be far enough from whatever had caused that now. He leaned against a tree trunk and tried to catch his breath. There was still no sign of the road, the village, or his uncle. He heaved a sigh. He couldn’t even see the sun to gauge a direction. He was well and truly lost. He heard a tremendous shriek of a bird call off in one direction, and started making his way there. It was as good a direction as any.

“Look at you,” said a slithery, mocking voice. Azula sauntered out from behind another huge trunk. Her look of haughty disdain made Zuko’s blood boil. “Lost and alone. It’s hard being an outcast and a disgrace, isn’t it Zuzu?”

This wasn’t real. The last one hadn’t been real, so this one wasn’t real. He turned away from Azula and kept walking.

“Is that the right direction, then?” chided Specter Azula with an infuriating laugh. “You’ve always made the wrong decisions, why stop now? You’re on a roll.”

“And what would you have me do?” asked Zuko, stepping from root to root, trying to stay out of the murky water. “I have always, every single time, made the choice I thought was best. What else could I have done?”

Azula’s whisper felt so close, he could almost smell the rose petals she bathed in. “You could have gone ahead and died of your injuries.”

Zuko spun on his heel, but the swamp specter of his sister was gone. Just the tinkling echo of her malicious laugh could be heard through the sounds of wind in the trees and fish in the bog. “Azula always lies,” he intoned the mantra that had gotten him through many hard days in the palace. “Azula always lies.” He sat on the root and held his head in his hands, covering his scar. “Azula always lies.”

Even if she was in his own imagination? “Azula always lies.” But what if this wasn’t Azula, but Destiny trying to lead him? Every step he took made things harder. Maybe he was going the wrong way. “Azula always lies.” He was supposed to be Fire Lord. He was the oldest living child of the Royal family. Death wasn’t an option. “Azula always lies.” He picked his head up. There had to be a way out of here. His uncle, his life, his throne, and his Destiny were waiting. At the very least, he wouldn’t give up without a fight.

It had been awhile now since Zuko had entered the swamp. He looked up to see if the trees were casting shadows against each other. He knew they had been riding roughly South ever since the North Pole. There wasn’t really another direction to go. And the swamp had been on their right on the road, so if Zuko went East away from the setting sun, he would eventually come to the edge. It only made sense.

But, either the sun hadn’t fallen enough to cast shadows yet, or the trees were casting shadows on higher branches where he wouldn’t be able to see them. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. All he had to do was wait. There was no point walking in circles, hallucinating from thirst and swamp gas. He could sit right here, where he knew there were no visions to haunt him, until the sun set far enough to tell him which direction to go.

He sat and breathed and listened. The trees swayed and whispered overhead. The fish and bugs splashed quietly in the water. The birds sang and fluttered about in the branches. The ringing in his ear almost blended with the buzzing of the insects. A little bit of meditation would help pass the time. He counted his breath in, then out, setting the pattern.

His usual meditations wouldn’t work anymore. He wasn’t trying to find the Avatar - he could call the man to him if he thought it would help anything. The bison whistle weighed noticeably in his pocket. He wasn’t pursuing his Destiny, he was waiting for it to decide when the right time was. Focusing on not focusing on Destiny wouldn’t help him focus at all. So what was the point of anything right now? 

He could focus on staying alive. If Destiny had some long plan for him, he had to stay alive long enough to see the end of it. That meant he had to adjust his expectations around necessities first, and be willing to go without many other things. Food and water were already becoming an issue. His head had been aching since yesterday for lack of enough water. They wouldn’t need to worry about being warm; Firebenders never would. What they needed was money. Money would buy food, lodging, water, new clothes, maybe even tack for the ostrichhorse or new bedrolls that didn't have holes and bugs. He hated to admit that having Aang and his connections around had made their journey so much more comfortable.

The trees whispered in the breeze. “I am so proud of you, Zuko.”

His eyes snapped open. An orange hue colored the entire swamp, and shadows danced in the branches high above, pointing away from the setting sun, but Zuko didn’t care. Standing before him was the figure, the woman he had chased into the swamp to begin with. Her regal crimson robes brushed the root at her feet, and her hairpiece shone brilliant gold in the light of the setting sun. “Mom?” Every part of him felt light, like he might float away if the breeze kicked up again. This couldn’t be real.

“I am so proud of you,” she repeated, and her voice was clearer now. Was this a dream? Another hallucination? Or was her spirit actually here, in front of him? “You have been through so much, and you are still so determined to succeed. You always have been.” She knelt in front of him and looked him in the eyes. Zuko recognized the fierce kindness she had always shown when he’d had a run-in with Azula. “And that is why you will. Never give up without a fight. Always remember who you are. You are my son.” And he could hear in her voice that she thought that was far more important than any other consideration. He was hers before he was his father’s, before he was a Prince, before he was a Firebender.

He leaned forward, reaching out to grab her by the robes and curl into her arms like he used to, but she vanished into the mist of the swamp before he could. The world got a little darker without her. Zuko’s breath caught in his throat. He held his head in his hands again, and found that he was crying. He couldn’t stop it, as much as he tried. So he let it come.

He stayed like that until he could breathe steadily again. He felt worn out, like his chest had been emptied and everything in it replaced with smaller, lighter things. He took a deep breath and could feel the coolness of night descending on the swamp. Finally, he stood, got his bearings on the shadows above, and started walking. He had to get out of here. He had to keep going. His stomach growled, his head throbbed, his knees shook with every step. He had to find his uncle, and they had to get some money, and they had to buy some food and water.

Slowly, the trees seemed smaller. The curtains of moss seemed lighter. The roots grew thinner and more tightly woven on the ground. Zuko couldn’t avoid the puddles anymore, and his shoes squelched with every step. The orange of the sunset faded to red. There were shafts of light through the trees ahead.

Zuko jumped forward, faster, reaching for the open air. He burst through the last curtain of moss and onto the road. “Uncle!” But no one was there. He spotted the ostrichhorse tied up to a root a little ways down the road, but there was no sign of Iroh. Zuko walked toward the beast. At the very least, he could wait there. His uncle knew where it was tied; he could find his way back there.

A few minutes later, a stout figure emerged from down the road. Zuko watched them approach in the deepening gloom of dusk. Soon enough, he recognized his uncle, walking slowly with hunched shoulders and soaked shoes. The Prince’s eyes widened. His uncle had gone into the swamp after him.

Iroh looked tired. His eyes were pointed at the ground, his face was a mask of disinterest, and his hands shook noticeably, even from this distance. What in the world had happened for him? It had been bad enough for Zuko to see the hallucinations in the swamp. Iroh had infinitely more demons buried in his mind. What had he seen? “Uncle?”

“We should find shelter in that town for tonight,” said the old General quietly. Zuko nodded and untied the ostrichhorse from the protruding root. It was full dark and they had reached the first outlying buildings when he had gathered himself enough to say “I am glad you were able to find your way back.”

“Me, too, Uncle,” Zuko replied gently. If the man didn’t want to talk about the visions, there was nothing Zuko could do to make him. They walked into the town and found a wide awning on one of the main streets. Zuko tied the ostrichhorse to a brace on the wall, and laid out the blanket on the ground. “We need to get some money tomorrow, for food and maybe a proper room in an inn next time.” Iroh nodded and smiled. He would be more himself with a little bit of time.

In the morning, Zuko stretched out his sore shoulder and kept his straw hat low over his eyes. This hadn’t been what he imagined when he suggested getting money.

Iroh sat with his back against the ostrichhorse’s side. Any time someone would walk by, he would hold out his own hat and ask them to give him a coin or two. It was that simple. It was absolutely humiliating. And what’s worse, there were plenty of people in this town with coins to spare. The hat was jingling nicely in no time at all.

A group had walked past, and several townsfolk had put coins in the hat, when a solitary man walked up and stopped in front of them. He looked dirty, like a farmer or a former soldier, and was wearing an elegant set of dual broadswords on his back, over a threadbare shirt and tattered pants. The man sneered and said, “How about some entertainment in exchange for… a gold piece?” He held up a coin between his fingers, taunting them with its glitter and the promise of food it could buy.

Zuko scowled. They could use the gold, for sure, but they already had enough to get some small bit of food, and being humiliated further just to be mocked for it was too much. “We’re not performers.”

“Not professionals, anyway,” said Iroh, setting the hat aside and getting to his feet. Zuko shrugged. The old man could do what he wanted. He stood in the street, clasped his hands together, and swayed with a beat only he could hear, singing

{It’s a long, long way to Ba Sing Se}  
{But the girls in the city, they look so pretty!}

The dirty man growled, “Come on, we’re talking a gold piece here! Let’s see some action!” The sound of drawn broadswords drew Zuko’s gaze sharply. Was the man going to attack his uncle? Surely the old General would defend himself. This was ridiculous. A gold piece wasn’t worth an injury. “Dance!” the man shouted, and started slashing at the paver stones of the road, making Iroh flinch and pick up his feet one after the other.

Iroh watched the swords closely, but kept singing. Zuko glared at the dirty man. If he so much as scratched his uncle…

{They kiss so sweet that you’ve really got to meet}  
{The girls from Ba Sing Se!}

The swords stopped their pointless slashing and the man laughed loudly. “Nothing like a fat man dancing for his dinner!” He sheathed the swords, clumsily to Zuko’s eyes, and tossed the gold coin on the ground. “Here ya go!”

“Such a kind man,”said Iroh as he picked up the gold piece from the road and set it in the hat with the rest. Zuko glared after the man, and kept his disagreement to himself. That man couldn’t even use those broadswords. He was destroying them with his arrogance and abuse. An idea came over Zuko. He’d had to leave the prop swords behind with Aang when he had left; they were useless in a real fight anyway. But he still had his mask. He needed a good weapon if he was going to avoid Firebending for the foreseeable future.

He waited for nightfall. Iroh snored loudly when he slept on the ground like this. Under the cover of the noise, Zuko rummaged through his pack and found his mother’s mask. He slipped it on, and slipped into the shadows.

The dirty man’s arrogance was astounding. Zuko found him easily, coming out of an inn with alcohol heavy on his breath. Even without a weapon, this would be easy. He crept up behind the man, then kicked a pebble and jumped the other direction. The man turned and drew the broadswords at the sound, but saw nothing. Zuko moved to stand in front of him.

When the man turned back, the Blue Spirit grabbed his hands and twisted the swords out of them. Zuko kicked him onto his back in the dirt, and took the swords. The balanced weight of them felt good. He slashed the sheathe from the man’s back, snatched it from the ground, and leapt away into the shadows again. This would make things so much easier.


	24. Avatar Day

Zuko stood carefully on the slate-shingled roof, crouching precariously near the edge to get a good look at the people on the road below. Not that one, not that one, there! He zeroed in on a couple walking with three baskets of fresh pastries strung to a gold-filigree carrying pole. Both of them wore modest clothing, but it was all brand new or in very good condition, like they usually wore something else. They were the kind of people who could easily afford to lose three baskets of fresh pastries and a gold-filigree carrying pole.

He watched them walk hand-in-hand out of the market district. He bounced from rooftop to rooftop, staying out of sight but always close enough to take the chance. They took one turn, then another, and finally, they turned onto an empty road. Zuko adjusted his mask and drew his newly-sharpened broadswords.

He leapt down into the street in front of them, slashed twice quickly at the carrying pole, caught the baskets of food on the end of one sword, and vaulted to the opposite roof, leaving the couple standing stunned and empty-handed in the dusty, lonely road.

This was the third time the Blue Spirit had stolen from wealthy Earth Kingdom citizens. The first had been out of desperation: they had been camping on the road, both of them shaking and weak from thirst, when a silk-covered cart drawn by a team of well-fed ostrichhorses had trundled by with casks of exotic juices and crates of fruit in the back. Even Iroh had not complained. The second had been a simple purse-snatching, and Zuko still wasn’t sure if his target had noticed yet. The coins had paid for their first truly filling meal since they had left the house of Je Tsun and her daughter Song.

He had been hoping for some meat today, or at least a full belly of vegetables. But as pilfered meals went, fancy dessert pastries weren’t bad. They were all made with real fruit, and the smells of warm sugar and buttered crusts wafted from the baskets like tempting waves of decadence.

He approached the forest cave he and his uncle had been staying in these past few days, careful to stay quiet until he had escaped the underbrush. He stowed his mask inside his shirt, beside the bison whistle, and walked around the side of the ostrichhorse and into view of Iroh. The baskets made a soft thud on the dry earth in the cave as he set them less than gently in front of his uncle.

Iroh looked up at the sound. “Where did you get these?” The smell of them enticed him and he took a cupcake from the top of one basket, inspecting it suspiciously.

Zuko scoffed, “What does it matter where they came from?” He took a fruit-filled danish and walked off, waving his hand dismissively. He heard his uncle’s distinctive humm of disapproval, but it was quickly cut off by the man’s delighted groan. Good. He liked the pastries.

The Prince bit into his danish and savored the warm, buttery puff crust and the sweet, fruity filling. Then, he untied the ostrichhorse and rode it down to the main road. They needed more than just food. They needed fresh clothes to replace the swampy ones they were still wearing. They needed more comfortable bedrolls. And they could use a lot more than that, especially if they planned to stay in this cave for awhile. They had nowhere else to go. They needed money.

He made sure he was far enough from the cave to keep suspicion away from his uncle, and tied the ostrichhorse to a stump a ways off the road. Then, he put on the mask and waited. He would know what for when he saw it.

He sat there for an hour before he saw what he wanted. A grandiose, gold-trimmed, green Earth Kingdom passenger coach came rolling down the road. Zuko drew his broadswords and measured his breathing to keep quiet.

When the driver was past him but the bulk of the carriage was still behind, he leapt from his hiding place and scaled the side of the passenger compartment. Three swift strokes of his blades cut a hole in the silk canopy for him to reach through. The man inside was predictably fat, dressed in a rich gown, and adorned at the neck and wrists with gold and jewels. Zuko would have settled to relieve him of those, but something more caught his eye - a sturdy but decorative lock box resting in the man’s lap. As the man in the carriage registered his danger, his arms wrapped around the box, and Zuko knew what he was taking.

All it took was a swift blow to the side of the head, and the man slumped over in the seat. Zuko grabbed the box and leapt into the forest. The whole ordeal lasted maybe five seconds, not nearly enough for the driver to see and react, and Zuko could buy the things he and his uncle needed.

He made it back to where he had left his mount, and slung the box over the ostrichhorse’s back. It would take a few minutes of travel to reach the town market, so Zuko secured it with a sash from his clothing before hopping onto the beast himself. He kicked it into a trot and turned onto the road in the direction he had been before. They really were lucky they had stopped so close to a bustling little neighborhood like this. There were plenty of people with plenty of money they didn’t need, and lots of expensive things to make their lives better.

The town seemed smaller when it was all available for purchase. He’d missed this feeling. With his mount tied to a post next to a couple others, he strode into the marketplace and took a good look around. What could he get that would help them? Better hats? Purchased. New pillows? Bought. A fancy tea set for his uncle? You bet. A new strap for his broadswords? Acquired. A sizeable container of cayenne pepper? A sizeable pile of gold and it was his.

The merchants all packaged their wares well for the inevitable travel, and Zuko took the time to secure them to the back of the ostrichhorse before he got moving. With a bit of finesse, Zuko was able to get out of the town, down the road, and even off the road and into the dense underbrush without anyone noticing his odd destination.

His uncle was away, maybe getting more water from the clear stream that had drawn them to this cave in the first place. Zuko’s stomach fluttered. Uncle would be so happy with all the new nice stuff. He set out the pillows with their bedrolls, set the golden teapot beside the fire, laid out the new clothes and hats where they would be obvious, and took some time to replace the strap on his broadsword sheath with the fresh, supple leather he had found, waiting for his uncle to return.

He was just finishing up with the knots when Iroh climbed out of the underbrush with a full waterskin. Zuko watched him walk into the cave, sit beside the fire, drain the water into their small cooking pot to boil, and only then pick up the golden teapot to inspect it. “Looks like you did some serious shopping,” he said flatly. “But where did you get the money?”

Zuko dodged the question. “Do you like your new teapot?”

“To be honest with you,” his uncle started, setting the teapot aside like it didn’t matter, “the best tea tastes delicious whether it comes in a porcelain pot or a tin cup.” Zuko’s heart sank and his face flushed. His uncle stood and came to his side, kneeling on the dirty cave floor to look him in the eye. “I know we’ve had some difficult times lately,” he said. “We’ve had to struggle just to get by.” He put a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, and the pitying look on his face was infuriating. Zuko shut his eyes. “But it’s nothing to be ashamed of. There is a simple honor in poverty.”

What would the brother of the Fire Lord know of poverty? Why was he rejecting anything that wasn’t the bare minimum of existence? Honor in poverty, for the Prince of the Fire Nation? “There is no honor for me without my throne.”

He couldn’t see his uncle, but he heard the man’s condescending, I-know-more-than-you voice. “Zuko,” he sighed, “even if you convinced the Avatar to go with you at this very moment, I’m not so sure it would solve our problems. Not now.”

Zuko stood and turned away from the ungrateful old man. “Then there is no hope at all.” The pit of ice in his stomach that he had hoped was gone forever had returned full force. He couldn’t be here, around this man who thought poverty was honor, at least not for a while. He walked softly from the cave.

His uncle called after him and grabbed his arm, a hint of desperation coloring his voice now. “No, Zuko! You must never give in to despair.” Zuko paused. Would he say something that actually mattered, or would he give another one of his theoretical, philosophical speeches? “Allow yourself to slip down that road and you surrender to your lowest instincts.” Zuko hung his head. It was just another philosophical speech. “In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength!”

Whatever that meant, it was as useless to Zuko as hoping that his throne would still be there when he got back home. He pulled his arm away from his uncle. He needed time to think, alone. 

Was this his destiny? He stepped over the low hedge of bushes and out into the quiet afternoon forest. Was it really his lot in life to be a homeless beggar, always struggling for every mouthful of water or morsel of food? What was Destiny waiting for? He didn’t understand why his uncle was so resistant to having nice new things. It wasn’t like he had murdered someone for them, or taken money from people who were just as desperate as them. He wished he could talk to… who? Maybe Aang? He seemed to know exactly where Destiny wanted him. And the bison whistle still sat comfortably in Zuko’s shirt pocket.

That was a stupid idea. He wanted nothing to do with Aang or his insufferable positivity. And the Water Tribe siblings were no better. Sokka had developed that same carefree outlook, with all those silly jokes and puns at every inopportune moment. And Zuko was pretty sure Katara would give Azula a run for her money in a fair fight, not that Azula would ever fight fair. His little sister had always been too cunning for that.

So what could he do? If his uncle was determined to live in poverty for whatever meager honor that gave him, Zuko would be forced to leave him behind. He could fight and claw for his honor that way, without the stubborn old man dragging him down. Yeah. That’s what he would do. He started back toward the campsite, to get his fancy things.

When he was just outside the edge of the clearing, he thought he heard a different voice, and he stopped to listen. Who was that? His uncle seemed fine with them being close. The old Firebender was saying, “He just doesn’t seem to listen to me anymore.”

“Give him some space. He’s sixteen; do you remember what you were like at sixteen?”

Iroh chuckled. “Oh, yes, I remember. It’s a wonder my mother never pulled her own hair out.”

“Mothers are saints with their children.” That voice was so familiar. Who was that? They were talking so softly it was hard to distinguish it.

“The monks wouldn’t have acted motherly. Do you have children, then?” Zuko could tell that Iroh was prying into his visitor’s past. Monks?

“Several,” said the voice with a laugh of its own. “I can’t let the Air Nation go completely extinct. That would cause irreversible damage to the balance of the world.”

It was Aang! How had he found them? Why did he sound so comfortable here?

Iroh’s voice came through again. “That makes sense,” he said, and then paused. “Zuko could be back any moment. You should probably go.” There was a shuffling of movement. “Thank you again for helping us. You have quite literally been keeping both of us alive.”

“Of course, my friend. It is the right thing to do.” Zuko heard a rush of wind, and then silence. Aang was gone.

It was definitely time to go.

Zuko stayed put for a few minutes to make his uncle believe he had not heard the exchange, then stepped out from the bushes. “Uncle…” He watched Iroh rise from inspecting their supplies, no doubt noticing and disapproving of the package of cayenne pepper, and sighed. “I thought a lot about what you said.”

The old Firebender’s face lit up with hope that Zuko knew was about to be squashed. “You did? Good, good.”

“It’s helped me realize something. We no longer have anything to gain by travelling together.” He watched his uncle’s face fall into deep sadness. But it was for the best. He had things to do, and a throne to claim, eventually. “I need to find my own way.” It was the nicest way he could put it.

He stepped past his crestfallen uncle, grabbed his pack and the container of spice, and stepped slowly out of the cave. He would leave the ostrichhorse for the old man. Zuko wouldn’t need the beast as much.

Just before Zuko reached the edge of their little area, his uncle called, “Wait!” He expertly untied the ostrichhorse and set the reins forcefully into Zuko’s hand, wrapping the Prince’s fingers around them with his own around the outside. Fine. If he was this insistent, Zuko would take the animal. He swung a leg up and over its back and kicked it into a trot. He didn’t look back.


	25. The Blind Bandit

The sun beat down like an angry face yelling obscenities at the world. All around, scrubby bushes and scraggly weeds clung to the shadows and the cracks, seeking respite from the sun and searching desperately for water. The smell of heat and dust completely blocked out anything else. Zuko’s skin felt dry and scaly, and every time he moved it stung like a fresh burn.

There had been no other travellers on the road in two days. There had been no sign of town, village, or campsite for longer than that. Zuko was beginning to regret not taking his uncle’s map when he left. Or stopping for a local map somewhere along the way. He had been lucky so far to find scattered streams crisscrossing the land like a silvery spiderweb, but the sources of food were all tiny lizard-like creatures or quick-moving birds, all too small to provide a decent meal without being caught in large numbers.

He covered his eyes and scanned the road ahead. There was another stream ahead. This was only the second one today, so he would have to stop and let the ostrichhorse drink its fill, if nothing else. There was a short, viney-branched tree nearby where they might be able to get some rest, and maybe, if he was lucky, a roasted bird. “I really should give you a name, if it's gonna be just the two of us for a while,” he said to his mount. The beast brayed. “How about Osti?” Nothing but the sounds of pounding talons on the road. “Horse?” Wind across the bare rock. “Uhh, what about Sozin?” Tumbleweeds bouncing across the road. “Yeah, that’s a terrible name for an ostrichhorse. How about Kuzon? Or Lee?” There was a slight ruffling of feathers, but nothing else.

Zuko slowed the creature as they neared the tree and the stream, and hopped to the ground. The beast’s first and only action was to lean down to get a drink. Zuko set his pack against the tree, took out his small waterskin, and emptied it. He knew it was dangerous to drink unboiled water, but nothing bad had happened yet, and he was always careful to find clear, fresh, running water or just go without. This stream was a perfect opportunity.

He refilled his pouch upstream from where the ostrichhorse was guzzling water, and set it beside his pack. He sat on a root of the tree, relaxing back against the trunk but keeping his eyes upward, checking the sparse branches for movement. After a few quiet seconds, Zuko spotted a geckotoad on a low branch, staring at him. That would do for now.

He slowly, careful not to disturb the animal, lifted his arm in an arc, keeping his elbow mostly straight, in position for the Firebending dart he had seen Iroh use before. He had to be quick, before the tiny lizard saw its doom and bolted. He took a slow breath in, lining up his shot.

“Hya!” He got it! The little lizard was engulfed in flames. Not quite what he had wanted, but maybe it would still be edible. Then he saw the leaves on the tree go from smouldering to flaming, then blazing. The twigs caught next, and then the branches they were attached to. Zuko scrambled to grab his pack and back away from the burning tree as ashes and hot cinders rained down on him. There would be no lizard to eat. His stomach cramped, and he drank more water to get it to stop.

The heat and crackle of the burning tree drew the ostrichhorse’s attention. It nudged Zuko’s elbow with its beak. “Yeah,” he replied sadly, “I guess it is time to go. There’s nothing more to get here.” He threw his leg over its back and they walked on down the road.

Everything was the same for miles around. Nothing changed. The mountains in the distance seemed to stay in the distance no matter how far he walked. A quick movement in one of the scrubby bushes just off the dirt road caught his eye and he pulled up on the reins. It was a little bird of some sort, it was too far away to tell. If he wanted to catch it, he would have to be more gentle with his fire, so he didn’t burn the whole bush area to cinders. And at this distance, he would have to be precise.

With a sharp inhale, he struck out with extended fingers, trying to guide the smaller flame in the right direction. To his dismay, not only did his dart veer to the side at the end, but it also fell short. It was too weak and small to travel the distance he needed. The bird dashed away into the cloudless sky.

He scowled and glared at the sun. “You could at least give me the strength to catch some food!” he yelled at the source of Firebending power, but the bright ball of fire just glared silently back. He sighed. This wasn’t helping. There would be another little animal.

The heat shimmer from the road made it hard to see movement in the bushes as the sun climbed higher. It was supposed to be Spring! This heat was definitely excessive. He drank some of his water, but he had to try to save it in case he didn’t see a stream for a while. The ostrichhorse’s pace began to slow. It was just too much. They had to find somewhere to rest until it cooled off.

In the distance, another scraggly tree danced in the heat. He just had to get there. The little trees usually grew close to the little streams; it was the only way they could get enough water to grow. He drank more of his stash of water.

“So how about Ilah for a name?” It had been his grandmother’s name, and though she died a few years before he was born, she was said to be dependable. “Yeah,” he said, “Ilah. That’ll be your name.” Ilah shook and snorted, and turned off the road toward the little tree.

To Zuko’s delight, there was another little stream burbling along just a few paces past the edge of the tree’s shadow. He downed the rest of the water in his pouch and gladly refilled it.

Ilah drank deeply from the river before doing anything else. The beast was just as hot and tired as Zuko was. After that, the bush beside the stream caught Ilah’s eye, and within two talond steps it was within reach of the hungry beak. A startled ravencrow fledgeling cawed at the disturbance of its home, and Zuko snapped his head around to look. That might be food for him, too. As Ilah took another bite and shook the branches of the bush, the young ravencrow took flight.

It was up away from the flammable bush! Zuko stepped and punched the air, sending a fireball to engulf the bird. “Ha!” The ball of fire was five times the size of the tiny bird, but hopefully it wasn’t too strong.

A mass of flaming feathers fell to the ground. Zuko ran forward and nudged the lump with a foot to put out the fire, but when he touched it, he knew. He got the remaining embers put out and kneeled down to inspect his catch. Black soot and gray ash were all that remained. Even the bones that were exposed were charred to cinders. There was nothing left to eat.

His stomach didn’t growl, but sat like a stone in his belly. He felt a tingle in his toes and an airyness in his movements. He stood, and his arms felt light, like they would float away if he didn’t keep them at his sides. He tied the belt sash a little tighter about his waist. There was no choice but to move on, but he couldn’t do it in this heat.

He tied Ilah to the tree and sat down against the trunk. Maybe if he slept a little, it would be cooler when he woke up. He took the blanket off Ilah’s back to help his feathered friend keep cool, and rolled it into a ball to act as a pillow for him. Just an hour, maybe two. It would be cooler.

After a restless and dreamless few minutes, Zuko opened his eyes. The sun had set completely. How long had it been? For sure it had only felt like a few minutes. He was still exhausted, and his hands shook when he held them out in front of him. He reached for his waterskin and drained it quickly. The charred remains of the ravencrow fledgeling were a shadow on the dark earth a little ways off. Zuko scowled.

He patted the ostrichhorse on the side and got to his feet. “C’mon, Ilah. Time to get moving.” Ilah stood, shook off the dust, stomped a talon, and stood still so Zuko could lay the blanket back in place. He vaulted up onto the feathery back and kicked his friend into an easy trot. With a flourish, he summoned a small flame in his palm to light their way.

The bare rock and dirt stretched on in the star-studded darkness. There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky for days now. Every rustle of scrubby branches drew his eye, but beyond the light of the bare flame lantern in his hand, all was darkness. “Guess we’ll have to do without light if we want food.” Ilah snorted. “Okay, if I want food.” He closed his hand and snuffed out the fire.

After a moment to adjust, Zuko saw fireflies all around them, blinking and lighting up the world with a soft yellow glow. After a few more moments, shuffling sounds started to distinguish themselves from the sound of the wind and Ilah’s footsteps. So there were animals who lived here. They just waited until dark to come out. He glanced around and spotted a pair of dimly shining eyes, moving alongside Ilah and the road.

He took a slow breath. He couldn’t stop Ilah on the road or the animal would run. He couldn’t aim anywhere but between the eyes. He had to have enough power to pierce the skull, but also precision to not destroy all the meat. He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on a pinpoint blaze, hot and powerful but compact. Curl the flames inward on both sides, draw it all into an arrow of fury. He opened his eyes, spotted the animal, and exhaled sharply, jabbing his hand forward with palm up and fingers curled in toward the center, just like he wanted the fire to do.

A thin line of bright orange flame lanced from his hand to the glowing eyes in the darkness. The creature screeched and the eyes fell. Had it worked? Ilah balked at the flash of light, but Zuko took the reins and brought the beast to a stop. He hopped off and quickly retraced the road to see what he had managed to kill.

In the dim lantern light that he summoned, the road became obvious, lined by ruts from wheels and edged by the sparse scrub bushes that were so prevalent here. He had to look to the very edge of his light to see the place he thought his prey might be. Finally, a darker shadow was laying still, just beyond the road.

With a hoot, Zuko leapt over the bushes. A wolfbat! He had killed a large, well-muscled, meaty wolfbat. That would give him enough meat for a few days! He knelt close, noting the clean hole in the skull, squarely between the eyes. Barely even any singeing on the fur around the wound. The shot had been perfect.

He took the carcass by the ankles and hefted it onto his shoulders. Back over the bushes, Ilah stood patiently on the road, and stayed there until Zuko had strapped the wolfbat down and climbed up himself. The Prince kicked, and they trotted on.

Finally, the sky to the East began to change color. Zuko spotted a tree, and the little stream nearby, and pulled Ilah under it to stop. It took only a few seconds to gather enough dry twigs and branches to get a cooking fire started. Then, Zuko turned back to his prey.

He had seen his uncle clean and gut fish, and had watched him prepare the small creatures they had eaten, but this wolfbat was a very large creature. All he really knew was that he couldn’t eat any part of its digestive system. He dug in his bag for the small knife he had carried, ever since his uncle had gifted it to him as a child. He had used this knife to cut off his topknot, after Azula had tried to capture them.

It had to be done. He unsheathed the knife and took it back to where he had set the wolfbat. This would be messy, at the very least. But if it meant food, he would swim in rivers of gore. He tipped the creature onto its back and started cutting.

Once the offal was out, the rest almost came naturally. The biggest muscles on the wolfbat, the ones that would become large steaks, were the ones at the major joints. The medium cuts could be cooked at length and turned into jerky with the cayenne pepper Zuko had saved. The smallest pieces might go well in a simple soup with some dandelion roots and new leaf shoots from the tree above him. That would take the rest of the night.

For now, he used his stash of cayenne pepper sparingly, to coat the strips of what would be jerky, and set the flat stone cooking plate next to the fire. The steaks would go on sticks, and hang over the fire so he could spin them to make sure they cooked evenly. And the rest, he stuffed into two mugs with water. He would take the time to gather the plants after the steaks were done.

It was important to take time to clean your blades. Zuko sat with some sand from the streambed, and scrubbed the blood from his knife. He flipped the steaks. He prodded the fire to turn the embers. He scrubbed his hands. Flipped the steaks. Added wood to the fire. Buried the gore. Flipped the steaks. Prodded the embers.

He drank some of his precious water before pouring it gently over a dandelion nearby. In the brightening dawn, he watched the dirt soak up the water like a sponge and hoped it had been enough. The earth had to be soft enough if he wanted to pull the root intact. He gave it another splash for good measure, and leaned down close to the sprawling leaves. If he remembered right, the central structure of the plant was fragile in the extreme. He would have to take it slow.

He walked back to the fire to flip the steaks again. They were almost done. After this, he’d pull them off the fire and let them cool. His stomach grumbled painfully. I took an act of will to turn away again, but the dandelion soup would be worth it. His knees shook as he knelt beside the little plant. He inched and wormed his fingers down the stem, taking all the leaves loosely in his palm, digging down as far as he could to get the best grip possible on the root.

He took his time, swinging the leaves left to right, front to back, pulling gently, and starting the process over, constantly moving his fingers farther down on the root as it slowly released its hold on the earth. Then, with a snap and a shower of dust, the root gave in and Zuko fell backward, clutching his prize in his hand.

Meat, vegetables, and enough to pack away and keep eating? Maybe he really could do it. He could survive alone, and do it long enough for his destiny to find him. He looked at the leafy root, seeing all the hope for his future, silhouetted against the pink dawn sky. His heart felt light, but not like his hunger-weak arms. This was strong. It bubbled up and he had to laugh. There was nothing else to do. Everyone had coddled him, or derided him, or dismissed him, but here he was, surviving. Despite everything and everyone that had stood in his way, despite the universe itself throwing everything it had at him. He laughed at the universe, and at his uncle who hid everything from him, at his sister who had always been better than him, at the Avatar who doubted him, at his father who disowned him. He had bested them all. Because he was alive. And that meant anything was still possible.


	26. Zuko Alone

Zuko had eaten the last of his food rations yesterday. The landscape had steadily changed from scrubland to wasteland. He hadn’t seen a tree in three days, or a stream in almost 24 hours. The last wolfbat he caught had fed him well, but that had been days ago, and the hunger was setting in again. He could get through this. He had before. There were always options.

Even this far from anything, there were signs of habitation. The Earth Kingdom road ran perfectly straight, if a little worn by ruts from the sparse traffic. No weeds encroached on the structure. Here and there, old campfire pits or broken bush branches could be spotted where someone obviously camped for a night, probably long ago. Zuko figured this area wouldn’t get enough rain to wash away the signs that frequently.

He put his waterskin to his lips and squeezed, but nothing came out. Had he really finished his water last time? He had tried to save a little of it, but the pouch was definitely empty. He sighed, and then closed his mouth tight. A heavy sigh wasted a lot of water, and he would need every drop he could get.

Ilah groaned and rocked to one side for a moment before Zuko could pull the reins back to center. Even the ostrichhorse was suffering in this heat. The signs of past travellers were growing more frequent; maybe there was a village or town nearby. Maybe they would have a well with some water.

A smell wafted over Zuko on the soft breeze. Someone was cooking meat nearby. He turned to face the win, and looked out over the barren rocky desert. A small cooking fire caught his eye, dancing in the breeze and tickling the underside of a fat steak spitted over it. A man in regular travelling clothes stooped to turn the steak, and Zuko sized him up, resting a hand on the hilts of his broadswords. That steak could feed more than one person.

He was about a second from pulling Ilah off the road when he saw the man crouch down beside the bush he had used to shelter the fire from the wind. He was talking to someone, and smiling in a way Zuko didn’t understand. He tapped Ilah on the flanks and moved a few steps forward to see around the bush. It was a woman! And she was very pregnant. That’s why the steak was too big.

Zuko caught himself before he sighed again and lost more water. Instead, he gritted his teeth and kicked Ilah into an easy, loping walk. The exposed skin on his hands felt scratchy and cracked with each movement of the reins. His back and head were throbbing. His tongue felt swollen and sticky. His eyes felt like bits of sand were getting dragged around by his eyelids every time he blinked.

Maybe he could just take a nap on Ilah’s back, just for a little bit. The beast could follow the road without his guidance. The heat was so heavy. No, he needed to stay awake. What would happen if they passed by the only stream for miles, and he was asleep? But his eyes drooped anyway. What was the harm? There would be another stream. He could just sleep. Ilah’s swaying walk soothed the aching head and the cracking hands.

“That’s who you are, Zuko. Someone who keeps fighting even though it’s hard.”

Zuko opened his eyes. How long had they been closed? The sun was still beating own relentlessly on the road. He thought he could just smell the hint of cherries slowly ripening in the Summer, and the distinctive smell of a turtleduck nest. He shook his head to clear away the dream. There were no turtleducks here. There were no cherry trees overhanging a little pond.

Ilah was groaning with each step. Beak hanging almost to the ground. Zuko shielded his eyes and scoured the horizon for any sign of civilization, and found it! There! I was closer than he had dared hope. How long had he been out? He rubbed Ilah’s neck and said, “Look! It’s a town! They should have some water, and maybe some real feed instead of these scraggly bushes.” He tried to smile at his mount, but his lips cracked and hurt. He tapped his heels against Ilah’s flanks instead.

It was another couple of minutes at an easy trot before they reached the town gate. Zuko pulled up on the reins to bring Ilah to a steady walk, and they made their way through the main entrance to the town square. Hopefully there would be a merchant there with some food. The buildings were made of the same dusty stone as the ground, and the roofs were rough-hewn wood. Everything was old and most things looked in need of repair.

Zuko spotted a livestock merchant at the end of this row of houses. On the other side of the road was a small group of Earth Kingdom soldiers, gambling over dice. Great. Well, no one had recognized him yet, even when it was just him and his uncle, so as long as nothing drew major attention to him, he should be fine. He pulled Ilah to a stop beside the stall and hopped to the ground. He glanced again at the group of soldiers, and saw one of them, the big one, staring back.

He turned to the merchant and held out two silver pieces, carved with the Earth Kingdom square in the middle.. “Could I get some water, a bag of feed, and something hot to eat?”

The merchant looked regretfully at the coins. “Not enough here for a hot meal.” Zuko’s face fell. He had brought all the new clothes and expensive spices with him, but he hadn’t grabbed any money. This was all he had. “I can get you two bags of feed,” the merchant suggested with a shrug of his shoulders.

Zuko hung his head for a moment, fuming at his own oversight, and then placed the coins on the table. The merchant just nodded, and retreated through a doorway to gather the items. The Prince waited in grateful silence.

Two young boys with dirty hair and ratty clothing whispered and giggled conspiratorially just around the corner of the merchant’s stall. Zuko noted their faces out of habit, but left them to their play. One of them, the one with a wide gap where he had lost a baby tooth recently, pulled back his arm and chucked something out into the street. Zuko heard one of the soldiers behind him exclaim, and the boys stifled their laughter and fled away down the alley.

“Hey!” called one of the soldiers. Zuko glanced around without moving, but no one else was there. The man was talking to him. “You throwing eggs at us, stranger?”

Zuko stayed still, waiting for the merchant to return from the storage room. “No,” he answered truthfully, hoping this wouldn’t go any farther.

“You see who did throw it?” asked the same voice, an edge of malice in it now.

Zuko turned around and looked at his accuser. He was a large man, typical green Earth Kingdom uniform, well-groomed beard, with an Earthbender’s stocky physique. Two very large and heavy-looking hammers hung at his hips, within easy reach. So he wasn’t that good of a Bender, he needed help with the power of it, but he had good technique if the dual hammers could help him at all. Overall, a formidable fighter, and not one Zuko would want to take head-on. “No.”

The three other soldiers stood and gathered behind their leader, but not in a line or in a defensive position the way Zuko expected soldiers to gather, but in an unorganized pack like bullies in a schoolyard. The one directly behind wouldn’t be able to engage until his boss had already begun and moved out of the way. The one to Zuko’s left jeered, “That your favorite word? ‘No?’”

The leader glared at Zuko and growled, “Egg had to come from somewhere.”

Zuko heard the merchant step back through the door and turned around, offering “Maybe a opossumchicken flew over,” to give the soldiers an explanation that didn’t involve him. If they were fair and responsible, they would let it go. If not…

The merchant set the pouch of water and two bags of feed on the wood countertop. He looked perturbed that the soldiers were standing so close. Zuko quickly found out why. The leader of the group, the one with the hammers, leaned pas Zuko and took the feed bags before he could . “Thanks for your contribution,” he mocked. “The army appreciates your support.” Zuko’s feed was tossed to another soldier, who began walking away with it. “You better leave town,” he said, staring back over his shoulder at the Prince. “Penalty for stayin’s a lot steeper than you can afford, stranger.” Was that a jab at Zuko being poor? “Trust me,” he added, tapping the handle of one of his hammers.

And that was a threat. Zuko glared through the straw brim of his hat at the back of the retreating Earthbender. If he ever, even once, had the chance to knock that son of a goatpig down a peg or three, he would gleefully take it. But this time, there were witnesses, and no direct provocation. He bit his tongue.

“Those soldiers are supposed to protect us from the Fire Nation,” the merchant said, with a well-hidden frustration that spoke of just how common this kind of occurrence was. “But they’re just a bunch of thugs.”

Zuko’s movements were smooth and just as well-guarded, betraying none of his seething anger. He took the large pouch of water and returned to Ilah.

A young boy’s head peeked over Ilah’s back. “Thanks for not ratting me out,” he said quickly, confident but unsure of the reception Zuko might give, and hiding his face halfway behind Ilah again the moment the words were out. Zuko just grabbed the reins and leapt up to Ilah’s back. He started moving away, but the boy dashed forward and grabbed Ilah by the bridle. “I’ll take you to my house and feed your ostrichhorse for you,” he said boldly. “Come on, I owe you.” Ilah brayed at the energetic child, and Zuko couldn’t help but feel for the beast. They needed food. Zuko’s stomach was beginning to cramp again. This might be his best opportunity to get some free food. He grimaced but let go of the reins, freeing Ilah to follow the young boy through the streets.

The boy’s sure feet took them quickly out of the main town and into the sprawling farmland on the other side. The gate where they turned off the road led to a large farm built up along what must have been the biggest stream in the area, tucked neatly up against the first foothills of the mountain range Zuko had seen grow slowly larger over the last few weeks. Behind each fence was a different kind of pig: there were goatpigs, cowpigs, horsepigs that stood taller than the others, sheeppigs with wool thick on their stout little bodies. Even a roosterpig perched on a post near the house that crowed at them when they approached. All of them stunk like mud and pigs do, and all of them raised an absolute racket as they passed by. The boy smiled wide and said over his shoulder, “No one can ever sneak up on us.”

“No kidding,” replied Zuko with a hint of humor. It really was a good idea, living this far from town and having to fend off the thug soldiers. Already, a man had come over one of the fences and was wiping his hands clean, and a woman had emerged from the barn covered in bits of hay. Zuko hopped of Ilah’s back and stood nervously before these strangers, watching his travelling companion and only friend being led away to the barn. What would they say, and what could he say?

The farmer smiled, radiating warmth. “You a friend of Lee’s?” The boy’s name was Lee? What name could Zuko use then? He still hadn’t met or talked to very many Earth Kingdom people.

Lee came running from the barn to grab his father’s sleeve. “This guy just stood up to the soldiers!” he breathed excitedly, tugging on the sleeve for emphasis. “By the end, he practically had them running away!”

That wasn’t how Zuko remembered it, but the farmer’s wife laughed at her son, like he made these kinds of exaggerations often. “Does this guy have a name?”

He absolutely could not give them his real name. But as he stammered and cast around for a decent name, the farmer interrupted. “He doesn’t have to say who he is if he doesn’t want to, Sela.” What? Surely they had seen his scar, they knew he had some kind of checkered past. But the man just kept smiling. “Anyone who can hold his own against those bully soldiers is welcome here. Those men should be ashamed to wear Earth Kingdom uniforms.”

His wife, Sela, nodded with a soft smile of her own. “The real soldiers are off fighting the War,” she seemed to be apologizing, “like Lee’s big brother Sensu.” She paused, and the darkness that clouded her eyes was familiar. Zuko had seen it every time a new battalion of troops marched in their farewell parade in the capital city, on the faces of the people left behind. But she soon looked up and said, “Supper’s going to be ready soon. Would you like to stay?

Nope. These people would soon realize what his scar meant and turn him out. And besides, he had no way to repay them for what they had already given him, let alone anything more. “I can’t. I should be moving on,” he said by way of apology, knowing it was the polite thing to do, and what his uncle would expect of him.

Sela frowned, and cast a meaningful look at her husband, who nodded. She turned to look Zuko in the eyes. “Gansu could use some help on the barn. Why don’t you two work for awhile, and then we’ll eat.” It wasn’t a question. But it was a way for him to repay them. He nodded.

Gansu led him toward the large barn, and Lee trailed aimlessly after them. “It doesn’t rain often,” said the farmer, “but when it does, hoo boy. You need a good roof on your barn.” He led the way around the building to a ladder that was already propped up against the side, and stopped to grab a couple of hammers from the toolbox on the ground beside it. “Now, Lee, you stay off the roof.” He handed one of the hammers to Zuko and started up.

Zuko followed him, holding the hammer carefully so his hand was still free to grasp the ladder’s rungs. He had never done this before. Maintenance was not something a Crown Prince was responsible for, and it had never come up in his travels.

At the top, Zuko hopped carefully onto the fresh shingles, and Gansu held out a handful of nails for him. When he took them and kept them in his hand awkwardly, the farmer said, “You can keep those in your pocket, so you can pull them out one by one when you need them.” Zuko nodded again, and put the nails carefully in his pocket inside his shirt, beside the blocky bison whistle. The extra weight felt odd, and he was careful not to jostle around too much for fear of scratching the carefully crafted whistle. He took a piece of flat wood from the neat stack, and moved to the edge of the shingled portion of roof.

He watched Gansu for a few minutes, learning how he wanted this done, and then started with his own. The theory was simple enough. But every time he tried to hammer a nail in, he either missed and hit his finger, didn’t hit it hard enough, or hit it too hard and bent the nail out of shape.

Lee watched from the top of the ladder, technically following his father’s instructions to stay off the roof. “You don’t seem like you’re from around here,” he said. Zuko mumbled and shook his head, lining up his next nail. “Where are you from then?”

“Far away,” he replied simply.

“Oh,” Lee sighed, and Zuko tapped the nail into the wood shingle. “Where are you going?”

Gansu interrupted. “Lee, give it a rest. Stop asking the man personal questions, got it?” Zuko was surprised at Gansu’s trust. Or was it naivete? Either way, he would get no complaints.

“Yes,” Lee sighed, and rested his head on his arms. Zuko lined up a stronger hammer blow to hopefully get the nail embedded deeper into the wood. “So how’d you get that scar?”

The hammer hit Zuko’s thumb instead of the nail, and he hissed and shook it to dissipate the pain and shock. Before he could say anything, Gansu scolded his son. “It’s not nice to bother people about things they might not want to talk about.” Zuko looked at him in surprise. “A man’s past is his business.” And without any fuss, he went back to hammering in nails.

So he had seen the scar, and he did know what it likely meant, that Zuko was a warrior and had darkness in his past, and more than likely in his future too. But he was choosing to ignore it, or just to be kind anyway. Zuko waited for Lee to settle into silence, and focused back on his nails. Stubborn kindness was a rare thing. But somehow, it was finding Zuko more and more lately. He had tried to leave it behind when he left Aang, but it had followed him in Iroh. And when he left Iroh, it had followed him here.

Come to think of it, his mother had been the same kind of stubborn when he was little. The only time he really hadn’t had anyone around him insisting on being kind was after she disappeared. And she had always insisted that Zuko be kind, too. Even to the turtleducks in the pond, and no matter what anyone else said.

He had tried to be kind, at her insistence, to his sister and her friends, especially Mai. They were the only kids in the palace. But no matter what he did, Azula always got the upper hand, and he always ended up on the ground. Though once, he had ended up in the fountain, along with Mai. Azula had laughed for hours, every time Zuko had walked into a room.

That was what he got or being kind. Yet here was this man, this whole family, giving him food, and even a place to sleep for the night, not even bothering to ask his name. And now, more and more, he was seeing it in other places: in the merchant who had chatted about the soldiers in town today, in the smiles on the faces of townsfolk he had passed in previous villages, in all the people who had given them change for the simple reason that his uncle had asked nicely, and in Song sharing her war story without the barest hint of pressure on Zuko to share his own.

He lay awake in the barn, listening to the owls hooting in the rafters that were still open to the night sky, wondering how anyone in the Earth Kingdom survived if they were all so relentlessly kind. And how they managed to protect themselves from thugs and bandits, let alone the Fire Nation. He had just closed his eyes when he heard the door creak slowly open, and small footsteps approach. It had to be Lee. No one else here was light enough to walk on the straw that softly.

The footsteps came closer, all the way up to Zuko’s back, and then they stopped and he heard his broadswords clank together softly in their sheath. Lee tiptoed from the barn with the dual swords. Zuko opened his eyes. That just wouldn’t do. He was about Lee’s age the first time his father had ordered him into swordsmanship lessons, but he started out with a simple shortsword, light enough and small enough to match his abilities. And he’d had a master to teach him. Lee might easily hurt himself or the swords.

Zuko climbed out of his bedroll and followed Lee, creeping from one shadow to the next like the Blue Spirit. The boy didn’t even feel his presence. They walked out beyond the various pig paddocks to an open field absolutely filled with wild sunflowers. Lee took the swords one at a time from the sheath, and admired them in the light of the full moon. He took one in each hand, the wrong hands based on the flat edge of each hilt, and started chopping at the sunflowers, treating the blades as individuals and using sharp, bold motions.

The Prince stood from his crouched position while Lee was facing away, and smiled. “You’re holding them wrong.” The boy nearly jumped out of his skin, and fell awkward into the sea of flowers. After a moment, he got back up, and held the swords out sheepishly for Zuko to retrieve from him.

He took his swords from the young boy, swapped hands, and tested their familiar weight. The kid had done well, even without instruction, but he could do better. “Keep in mind, these are dual swords,” he said. He held the blades together, then let them fall apart, spinning as one weapon in two pieces. “Two halves of a single weapon. Don’t think of them as separate, ‘cause they’re not.” He twirled them from one side of his body to the other, flashing in balanced and opposing arcs of deadly steel. “They’re just two different parts to the same whole.” He sliced an arc through the stems of the nearby sunflowers, and a swath of them fell before his blade.

He stopped, and noticed Lee watching him with awe. He supposed he could be kind today. He held out the swords hilt-first, for the boy to take back. The young face lit up with joy and excitement, and he took the swords and placed them flat together, starting his motions the way Zuko had earlier. He was a quick study, though he wouldn’t master anything tonight. After a few spins, the boy laughed out loud, and Zuko smiled.

“I think you’d really like my brother Sensu,” said Lee, handing Zuko the swords back. “He used to show me stuff like this all the time.” Zuko guided him by the shoulder back toward the farmhouse, and sleep. He still had to get going tomorrow. He couldn’t stay here forever, not with the warfront being so close and the town occupied by Earth Kingdom soldiers. But it made his heart a little lighter to know he had given Lee just this little bit of happiness.

He slept better that night, among the chickenpigs and hay, than he had in weeks. He woke to roosterpig crows and a bright sunrise, and even Ilah in the stall beside him looked hale and hearty, ready to continue their trek. After a filling breakfast of eggs and bacon, Zuko had everything packed neatly on Ilah’s back, and the family stood at the gate to wish him well. Sela even handed a small box up to him and said, “Here, this ought to get you through a few meals.”

As he reached down, the sound of ostrichhorse talons on the dirt road caught his ear, and he looked up to see four familiar faces approaching at a gallop. Gansu saw them, too, and groaned. “What do you think they want?”

It was rhetorical, but Zuko answered anyway, feeling the battle instinct in his gut. “Trouble.” He turned Ilah around to face the soldiers. They didn’t have to wait long. The pigs in the paddocks squealed louder and louder as the soldiers passed farther into the farm and pulled up to a stop in front of the gathered family.

Gansu held one arm partly up, an instinct Zuko thought, to block the soldiers from reaching his family. “What do you want, Gow?” he growled, glaring at the leader with the hammers.

Gow (Zuko would remember that name) preened and called, “Just thought someone ought to tell you that your son’s battalion got captured.” He turned to his companions with a malicious sneer. “You boys hear what the Fire Nation did with their last group of Earth Kingdom prisoners?”

One of them responded with glee, “Dressed ‘em up in Fire Nation uniforms and put ‘em on the front line unarmed, the way I heard it.” The man spit derisively on the ground, as if none of this was even an issue, let alone a crushing blow to this family. “Then they just watched.”

Zuko saw despair growing in Sela’s eyes, and confusion in Lee’s. Gansu shouted, “You watch your mouth!” The farmer took half a step forward, and Zuko saw the surprise and venomous smiles on the soldiers’ faces.

Gow kicked his mount forward, and Zuko drove Ilah between him and the farmer, meeting the man’s eyes with the confidence and warning of his royal bloodline and decade of training. He saw the shift in Gow’s bearing and expression, the automatic acknowledgement of a powerful adversary. The Earthbender weighed his options. Then, he pulled his mount around and said, “Why bother rooting around in the mud with these pigs?”

The Prince watched the rest of the pack of bullies turn to follow their leader. He wouldn’t have put himself between them and their targets yesterday, but he remembered the day they got the news of Lu Ten’s death. He had always loved playing on the beach with his cousin and his uncle. Some of his fondest memories were of sand between his toes and the crash of waves on the shore. He had been utterly crushed by the heartbreak in his mother’s voice when she read the letter, and it had taken a long time for him to really process that he would never see Lu Ten again.

That same shock was written all over Lee’s little face now. “What’s going to happen to my brother?” His voice shook with worry and despair. To come here for the sole purpose of rubbing this pain in a poor family’s face, and to tell them exactly how cruel their son’s death would be… 

Gansu moved like a madman, grabbing a pouch of water and nothing else. “I’m going to the front. I’m going to find Sensu and bring him back.” He started walking down the road, and Sela followed him, pleading both for him not to go, and for him to find their son.

Lee tugged at Zuko’s trousers. “When my dad goes… will you stay?” He was holding back tears, pleading for Zuko to stay and be the friend Lee needed and the farmhand Sela would need soon.

But as much as Zuko might feel for the family, he still had a destiny to find, and he had stayed too long. They would get along without him. “No,” he said firmly. “I need to move on.” He hoped the definitive decision would help Lee move past it. But they still would need help.

An idea struck Zuko. Lee was naturally skilled with a blade, especially for as young as he was. The Prince reached down to where his pearl dagger sat strapped to his belt. The little knife had come in handy for him, and the inscription was incredibly motivational. It was even an Earth Kingdom original; Iroh had acquired it in the siege of Ba Sing Se and sent it to him not long before Lu Ten died. He pulled the sheath free of his belt and leaned down over Ilah’s side to present it to Lee. “Here. I want you to have this.” The boy took it and grasped the handle reverently. “Read the inscription.”

Lee pulled the blade from its sheath far enough to see the etching. “Made in Earth Kingdom.”

He was looking at the wrong side. “The other one,” prompted Zuko, facing forward and waiting to kick Ilah forward until he knew Lee had seen the message.

“Never give up without a fight.” Zuko heard the hope return in Lee’s tone. Good. He kicked Ilah’s flanks and they cantered easily out the gate and away from the farm. They would be fine. Just like his family had been. That had been the day his father had petitioned for succession, and Zuko had been named Crown Prince in Lu Ten’s place. It had ended up being a catalyst for everything that had moved Zuko into line to eventually be Fire Lord.

The sun on the road quickly became hot enough to remind Zuko why he had tended to travel at night recently. He found a tall tree to shelter them, and pulled Ilah off the road. The day they had heard of Lu Ten’s death… Azula had criticized their uncle for retreating, saying he had lost the war and come home crying. But Zuko knew he had just lost his only son. He saw what that meant to his mother, and Lu Ten hadn’t even been hers. Iroh had still been crushed by the memory, only a few weeks ago when they had spoken about it.

And then his father had deposed his uncle, taken his place as heir to the throne, all while Iroh wasn’t even there to defend himself. Azulon had been so furious at the mention of revoking Iroh’s birthright. And he had died that very night. And Zuko’s mother had never been seen again. Come to think of it, Azula had been so convincing when she had come to his bedchambers and sung “Dad’s going to kill you” from the doorway. Had any of this even been Azulon’s idea? He had to reexamine it all, with the knowledge that his father was likely more than ambitious enough to orchestrate a plot against his own father and brother if it meant he would take the throne. Fire Lord Azulon had been the picture of health, and had died that night. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

But Azula always lies. There was no way his father would have actually killed him. But he had burned him without issue, why wouldn’t he be willing? Azula always lies. And his father had in fact not killed him. “Azula always lies.”

An ostrichhorse squealed as it was pulled sharply to a halt on the road. Zuko sat up to see who was there, and saw Sela on a farm carriage, fear and desperation plain on her face. “You have to help! It’s Lee…” Her voice shook. “The thugs from town came back as soon as Gansu left. When they ordered us to give them food, Le pulled a knife on them! I don’t even know where he got a knife!” The boy had done what? And Zuko was to blame! “They took him away,” she sobbed, finally freeing the tears that she had been fighting back. “They told me if he’s old enough to fight, he’s old enough to join the army.” There was no way. He was a child. Zuko stood. This was not just, and he could do something. “I know we barely know you, but-”

“I’ll get your son back,” said the Prince, and it was a decree. He refused to let this happen. He didn’t have a say in how the Fire Nation conducted the war, nor how the Earth Kingdom responded, but he could save an innocent boy from thugs.

It was sunset when he made it back to the town gate. He slowed Ilah to a walk, taking in the surroundings. This hopefully wouldn’t turn into a fight, but if it did, he needed to be ready. He saw shops close their doors and townsfolk scatter to protected alleyways. He saw the small group of soldiers milling about the town’s windmill. He saw the leader there, both hammers strapped within easy reach on his hips. And he saw Lee, trussed and tied to the windmill’s base, head hanging low.

Ilah’s talons pounding on the road drew all eyes up, and Lee’s face lit with hope. “Hey! There he is! I told you he’d come!” The wicked smiles on the Earth Kingdom soldiers’ faces sent a battle shiver down Zuko’s spine. They moved forward, and Gow moved out in front. They were setting the stage for a fight. This was what they had wanted for days.

Zuko pulled Ilah to a stop and dropped to the dirt. He took off his straw hat and placed it carefully on top of his pack before he pushed Ilah away to safety. Then he stood tall, took a deep breath, and projected his voice. “Let the kid go.”

Gow laughed quickly, and glared at Zuko. “Who do you think you are, telling us what to do?”

Oh, if only Gow knew, he wouldn’t be so impertinent. “It doesn’t matter who I am. But I know who you are.” He saw his words worming under Gow’s skin. “You’re not soldiers; you’re bullies. Freeloaders, abusing your power. Mostly over women and kids.” The smirks on the soldiers’ faces turned to sneers. “You don’t want Lee in your army. You’re just sick cowards messing with a family who’s already lost one son to the war.”

It was meant to incite an emotional attack, so Zuko could defend from a cooler mental state. But something had clued Gow in that this opponent was one to be cautious with. The Earthbender turned to his three lackeys instead. “Are you gonna let this stranger stand there and insult you like this?”

The angriest man charged first. It was a simple thing for Zuko to duck under the wild attack and deal a blow to the man’s gut with the hilts of his swords. The man grunted in pain and collapsed to the side. Three more.

The second man ran forward to avenge his comrade without thinking. Zuko sidestepped the spearpoint with a flourish, set his feet, and blocked the man’s head. The rest of his body kept its momentum and moved forward. Zuko slammed the man’s skull backward into the ground and he stopped moving. Two more. Zuko stood and fixed his stance at the ready.

The last man charged more carefully, setting his spear lower and aiming more center on Zuko’s torso. So Zuko kicked upward just as the speartip came into range. It was the same kick he had used in the South Pole when Sokka had charged him with a whalebone spear. But wood was softer than bone, and this soldier’s spear shattered. The man stopped short, eyes wide, realizing his predicament. He fled. Just Gow left. He heard Lee laugh from his place at the windmill, and a steady whisper of townspeople who had gathered to watch the spectacle.

Gow drew his twin hammers, and Zuko drew his dual swords. The soldier was cool and collected now. This would be a fight. Zuko breathed and waited for Gow to make his move. As long as Lee was safely tied to the windmill, he had all the time in the world.

With a powerful swing of his hammers, Gow raised three boulders from the street and launched them one by one at Zuko. The first and second were easy to deflect with his swords, but the sweeping motions he had to use only flowed smoothly twice. The third strike hit home, knocking the wind out of him. He kept his feet under him and quickly straightened himself again, but the moment his eyes met Gow’s he had to swing again. Gow launched volleys of three, and each third strike hit a little harder. Was he making each set of boulders bigger? Maybe he wasn’t actually that weak of a Bender, but just enjoyed the power boost the hammers gave him.

Zuko was honestly on the defensive now. The last volley had sent him reeling, coughing for breath. He heard the hammers strike the ground behind him before he could right himself, and knew he was in trouble. He looked up in time to see Gow’s attack just before it hit. Instead of a volley of boulders, the Earthbender had created a line of upheaval, like an upward avalanche, ending in a five-foot-tall spike of stone aimed directly at Zuko’s head. He raised his blades into an x just as the rockalanche reached him. The impact to his blades sent shockwaves up his arms, and the blades bounced back into his chest, knocking him into the air. He landed hard on his back.

He gasped for breath. The sunset colors in the sky blurred into the dark brown of the buildings. He felt like he was going to be sick.

“That’s who you are, Zuko. Someone who keeps fighting even though it’s hard.”

Zuko shook his head at his mom. “But it’s so hard. I’m not good enough.”

“Never forget who you are.”

That’s right. He was the Crown Prince. He had a destiny to fulfill. He couldn’t give up, not ever. He forced his lungs to inhale in spite of the stabbing pain in his ribs. He opened his eyes and made them focus on the roof of the building beside him. He listened past the ringing in his ears and picked out the heavy crunch of Gow’s big boots approaching. The man was off guard. He thought he’d won. He would soon know his mistake.

Zuko took another breath, converting it to energy and tightening the grip on his swords. Gow was boosting his Earthbending with hammers. But Zuko was armed, too. There was no one who could stop him, onl delay him. He would be victorious.

Gow stepped into the range of Zuko’s swords. With a yell, Zuko was swinging, using the momentum and weight of his arms to swing himself to his feet. Sharp, curling knives of flame extended from the ends of the swords, like three feet of new, red-hot steel. Gow jumped back with a startled cry, finally on the defensive. Each swing of a blade sent the arc of flame farther, forcing Gow to backstep. A flurry of strikes sent the bigger man backward onto his own rockalanche remnants and he tripped, falling back and shielding his face with his hand in desperation.

Zuko stopped. Killing him, or even maiming him, was not just. Forcing him to live with his defeat, in the knowledge that he was beaten, that was just. Gow looked up at Zuko standing silhouetted in the sunset, and his voice trembled with visceral fear. “Who- who are you?”

“My name is Zuko,” he said with pride. “Son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai.” He sheathed his smoking swords with a flourish worthy of his old swordmaster. “Prince of the Fire Nation and Heir to the Throne.” He took pleasure in the recognition that flashed in Gow’s eyes.

The voice of an old man from one of the alleyway crowds cut through the air. “Liar! I heard of you! You’re not a prince, you’re an outcast!” He searched for the voice in the crowd, but couldn’t find it. “His own father burned and disowned him!”

And that would be corrected in time. Zuko knew Destiny was at work. He would still inherit the throne. He reached toward Gow who now cowered in fear of a lean young man he had previously heckled and harassed. Zuko took a familiar pearl dagger from the Earthbender’s belt and left him to consider his actions.

The Prince turned to find Lee. The boy was being untied by his mother, and both looked anxious to be away from here. He understood that. He took the few steps toward them and held out the daer, but Sela stepped between him and the boy, a fierce look in her eyes. “Not a step closer.”

But he had just defended them! Why was she acting this way? He knelt in the dusty road and held the dagger as far out as he could. “It’s yours,” he said to the little boy who had begged him to stay just hours earlier. “You should have it.”

Lee almost snarled. “No! I hate you!” The outburst seemed to terrify him, and he hid behind his mother’s skirt.

Zuko felt the familiar gut-wrenching feeling of losing a friend. No one ever stayed long. He was naive to think otherwise. He clenched his hand around the dagger and pulled it back from the boy. It was the same. Always the same. His destiny would lead him home, but it would be alone. Even his mother had left in the dead of night. Left him with just his conniving sister and his cruel father for company.

He knew how to close himself off from this. He had done it before. It would come back later, of course, but for now, he needed to go. He stood and walked calmly to where Ilah had wandered. The ostrichhorse only knew obedience, not friendship. He vaulted into position and tapped with his heels, and they walked out the gate of the town, into the deepening sunset.


	27. The Chase

It was so nice to be out of the desert. The town had marked the edge of two climates, and ever since, he had been riding through dense forests and lush grassy fields. He was finally gaining a little bit of weight back, after having to tie his belt up tight enough to hang off his hip bones last week.

In the more habitable area, there were more people, and more roads. He had passed merchants, families, and even small contingents of soldiers along the way. There had been a few times now when he had been faced with a choice of which road to follow. The first one had been agonizing. Which way would take him home? What if he chose the wrong one? But he had to have faith in Destiny. Each decision was easier if he relaxed and just allowed the change to happen, rather than being the instigator. He had even left Ilah’s reins in his lap this last time, and the ostrichhorse had drifted to the right on instinct.

He drank deeply from his water pouch, and appreciated that this latest road seemed to follow a river, and he could refill his water stores any time he felt like it. He listened to the birds in the treetops, and heard the rustling of leaves in the underbrush, and knew that food was readily available when he got hungry. The mid-Spring sun beat down, but didn’t reach the road through the dense canopy of leaves, and Zuko rode in shaded comfort.

A pair of merchants with a small carriage were stopped in the road just ahead. Zuko couldn’t see past their cart and ostrichhorses, but the man and woman seemed perplexed, walking back and forth as if there was no way forward from where they stood. As he approached, he pulled Ilah down into an easy walk, intending to ask the merchants what was keeping them. But before he could say anything, he saw it.

A pair of huge, deep ruts cut deep into the ground, perpendicular to the road. The tracks were bigger than any cart or carriage, and looked nothing like the normal wheel ruts one would see on a major road like this. It looked like large, incredibly heavy bars had been pressed into the ground so hard over and over that the rock itself had cracked under the weight. The merchants were muttering to each other, completely baffled as to what would make tracks like this.

But Zuko knew. It was a rolling metal war machine, a tank that could only be from the Fire Nation. “Do you have a pick or shovel?” he asked aloud, and the merchants finally noticed him. “The break in the road is too deep for your cart, and will be too deep for the next cart. We should fill it in.”

The man smiled, and the woman said “Oh, you are kind to offer, but I am an Earthbender. We were just trying to figure out what made the tracks.”

Zuko put on a smile and nodded. “I’ll leave it to you, then,” he said, and waved as he pulled Ilah off the road and into the forest where the tank had gone. He could see trees pushed down along the nearly straight path the tank had forged through the wilderness. Ilah had no trouble at all finding footholds in the shattered rock and compacted dirt, and off they went. Destiny really couldn’t have been more obvious with this one. A straight path forged by the Fire Nation, put directly across the Earth Kingdom road? There was nowhere else Zuko would rather go than wherever it was this led him.

The trees and bushes had been felled and crushed beneath the tank’s metal treads, so the path was wide and clear. He followed it through dense forest and into the mountains, where it climbed and threaded through a valley between two high, snowy peaks, before dropping back down into riverlands again.

At a fork in a large river, the tracks stopped and the tank itself sat silent and sullen. Zuko hopped to the ground and crept up to the side of the dark gray, smoking machine. It was taller than two of him, and long enough to comfortably house several komodorhinos without impeding the pilot. The back hatch was down, and the whole contraption on the inside was visible, and completely empty.

It definitely wasn’t set up to accommodate komodorhinos. The large and well-stocked water troughs said a more amphibious, or at least tropical, animal. That, plus the tracks around the door - long, gangly fingers spread wide with sharp claw imprints at the ends and the occasional tail scrape - said these were probably mongooselizards. Three of them.

It looked like the riders had split up here, using the lizards for more agility than the tank would allow. Two had gone off in one direction, and one had veered away into the forest in the opposite direction, following a trail of long white fur. Zuko stooped to pick up a clump, and rubbed it between his fingers. It was damp, and had a peculiar smell about it that reminded him of being on a high mountain trail with a strong wind whipping up the dust from the road. This was the fur of a Flying Bison. Who was chasing a Flying Bison through the forested mountains of the central Earth Kingdom?

He jumped back up onto Ilah’s back and tapped with his heels. If it was Nini, maybe Destiny had finally decided it was time. If it was another bison, it clearly was being hunted and needed help.

The trail of fur was easy enough to follow, and the occasional mongooselizard track kept Zuko confident that he was still following the right trail. He weaved in and out of trees as the trail led downward, into a valley. Through the canopies, Zuko caught glimpses of a ruined, abandoned town in the deepest part of the valley. Why would a Flying Bison go to an enclosed valley with a town? The obvious answer sent thrills of excitement and hope through Zuko’s chest. He kicked Ilah into a faster trot.

The abandoned town quickly grew in the distance as Zuko and Ilah approached it. He kept his eyes peeled for the mongooselizard and its rider. Depending on which group of Fire Nation specialists had been sent, the rider might be difficult to overpower. He left Ilah in the trees at the forest’s edge and crept between two crumbling buildings to get a better view of the town. From this close, he could finally hear voices, but he couldn’t quite make them out. He reached the end of the wall and peeked around the corner.

The first thing he saw was Aang’s bright orange robes, dusty and torn in places, but still absolutely regal in appearance. His bowstaff was slung across his back and his hand rested on the lower section of it, like a very old friend. His piercing eyes had dark, baggy splotches underneath, and his head tilted just slightly to one side. He was exhausted, Zuko realized. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

The trail of fur ended at the Airbender’s feet. At the other end of the road, standing in clumps of fur strewn in the dust, was Azula. Her mongooselizard mount had wandered to the edge of the town, but would come to her if she called, he knew. In contrast to Aang’s wrinkled, exhausted face, Azula’s looked clean and refreshed. She would be at peak performance. She would not have allowed herself to be in this situation any other way. Her familiar malicious smirk seemed to verge on arrogant unless she had a solid plan.

Aang’s deep voice echoed around the dilapidated buildings and empty streets. “So what now?” The man stood and waited for the opening he would need. Zuko wasn’t sure that Azula would oblige.

“Now?” she responded. “Now, it’s over. You’re tired and you have no place to go. You can run, but I’ll catch you.”

“You’re clearly capable,” said Aang, “but I’m not running.” The look on his face was resolute. He didn’t want to hurt this young girl, but clearly she had given him no choice. He still didn’t move.

Azula smirked, thinking she had the Avatar in a trap. “Do you really want to fight me?” she called, in her sweetest little-girl voice.

She was trying to guilt the Avatar into surrendering rather than fight her, by tricking him into thinking she was just an innocent, helpless little thing. It was a move worthy of Azula. But this was not her prey, and Zuko could not let her have this win. Destiny wouldn’t allow it. It had led him here to stop it.

So before Aang could respond, Zuko stepped out into the street and answered his sister’s question. “Yes, I really do.” He tossed his straw hat to the side and set his feet square. There was no telling what would happen around Azula, so it was best to be prepared for anything.

Zuko’s eyes were locked on his sister, but he could hear the glee in Aang’s tired voice and could imagine the wide grin that would be on the wizened face. “Zuko!”

Azula turned away from the Avatar to face her brother with a bored expression. “I was wondering when you’d show up, Zuzu.” She knew the childhood pet name would infuriate him.

Aang stifled a laugh. “Zuzu?”

Zuko spared him a quick, fiery glance before he fixed his eyes back on his sister. “Back off, Azula! He’s mine.”

She stepped a foot back and raised her arms into a fighting stance. “I’m not going anywhere,” she purred, and struck. Her open palm spiked out toward Zuko, sending a tight jet of blue flame at his chest, forcing him to spin up a small fire shield to dissipate the attack. He was thrown backward into a rotting wooden porch.

While Zuko was pulling himself free of the soft wood, Azula launched her assault on Aang with a strong line of flames from above. Aang made a sharp motion with his staff, and to Zuko’s amazement, wings sprouted from the sides of it. Like he could walk on the air itself, Aang leaned forward and hooked his feet over the end of the staf, and he was airborne, flying to get away from the huge line of blue flames headed his way. Azula made a quick motion with one wrist, and the flames changed direction. Aang flipped upside down and spun the winged staff, closing the wings and creating an air shield that dissipated the attack, but without the wings he landed hard on the roof of the building beneath him.

The Avatar leapt to his feet, Azula leapt to the roof to target him with a flurry of dagger-like attacks, and Zuko stood in the street to launch fire punches up at his sister to throw her off balance. Aang seemed intent on only using Airbending, and Zuko couldn’t decide if it was because he didn’t want to hurt Azula, or if it was because that was his native element and easiest for him to use on very little sleep. Either way, the three fighters danced around each other, firing blasts, flinging arcs, and successfully evading each other at every turn.

Aang eventually evaded by floating to a high balcony in a tall building, and Azula predictably gave chase. Zuko watched her jump to reach the railing and swing herself up and into the broken door. He had to get up there. He ran to the edge of the road, jumped up to grab what was left of the balcony floor, and heaved himself into a vertical flip like his sister had. When his feet hit the balcony, he ran through the door, and immediately fell through the floor of the room, which had rotted away all but the very edges. He saw Azula hanging on to the wall on one side of the door, and Aang floating on what looked like nothing but a faint dust cloud with a sympathetic wince on his face at Zuko’s fall. Aang leapt nimbly around the edge of the room and out the door past Azula, who was knocked down by the wind of his passing and into the guts of the building with Zuko. He stood to face her, but she kicked him in the chest and sent him sprawling into the open street again.

Zuko was seeing stars. He heard fire blasts, and muffled voices from inside one of the other buildings, but his head swam and he couldn’t open his eyes without the sun sending shooting pain through his head. He was grateful when a shadow obscured the sun for him, and cracked his eyes open to see what had caused it. Hovering protectively above him was a very familiar face, and a welcome sight. “Uncle?”

“Get up.” It was a command, and brooked no argument. Iroh held out his hand, and Zuko took it. He hauled himself to his feet. When he searched for Azula, he found her in a furious battle with not just Aang, but Katara and Sokka as well. The Master Waterbender was going toe to toe with Azula, giving Aang a chance to rest and breathe, and the distraction of the boomerang from Sokka was enough that the group actually had the Firebending prodigy on the defensive. But she was backing up toward an alleyway where she could climb to gain the advantage, or run without interference.

Suddenly, Azula was thrown to the side seemingly out of nowhere, and standing behind her in the alleyway was a small girl dressed in very well made, green Earth Kingdom clothes and no shoes at all. She stood in an Earthbending stance, but with her fingers outstretched and her wrists bent up into odd angles. Her light, lilting voice resounded with confidence. “I thought you guys could use a little help,” she said, but she wasn’t looking at anyone. Were her eyes clouded over? It was hard to tell from here. Zuko started inching carefully closer, simultaneously curious and cautious that Azula might not be out of the fight yet.

Katara sent the girl a grateful “Thanks,” but stopped when Azula jumped to her feet. After a moment of consideration, the surrounded Princess fled down the road toward Zuko and Iroh, but the portly old Firebender jumped in front of her and bounced her back with his belly. She stumbled in surprise, and had to take a moment to regain her footing. In that time, Zuko and Iroh closed the gap she would have used to escape, and stepped forward into a line with the Earthbender girl, Aang, Katara, and Sokka.

Azula backed away from them, but found herself in a corner with no way out. Facing the combined wrath of five Benders and every element, she dropped her hands and slumped her shoulders. “Well look at this.” Her voice dripped with disdain. “Enemies and traitors, all working together. I’m done,” she said, and raised her hands calmly over her head. “I know when I’m beaten. You got me. A Princess surrenders with honor.”

Zuko didn’t believe that for a second. Azula always lies. He didn’t know how yet, but this was a trick. He glanced side to side at the people around him, and saw that his uncle was staring at the little Earthbender girl. He would have to ask why later.

Before anyone could react, Azula took a strong step forward and threw out her hand. Flames extended past her fingertips in a straight line of blue destruction, hitting Iroh in the heart. Zuko stared in horror as his uncle cried out in pain and fell to the ground. He didn’t want to look past the singed edges of green fabric to see how bad the wound was. He wanted Azula to pay.

Fury rose in Zuko’s chest like a river of lava, and he punched forward. An ongoing stream of fire reached for Azula, and was met with Katara’s water whip, Aang’s air tunnel, and a huge boulder from the Earthbending girl. Azula spun a blue fire shield around her, but the assault was too much. It collapsed under the elemental barrage, and the forces of it all created a minor explosion outward, throwing dust and debris into Zuko’s face and setting the broken wood houses around them on fire.

When they could see again, Zuko searched frantically for any sign of Azula, but she had still escaped. How? There had been nowhere to go! But gone she was, and his uncle lay injured or dead behind him. He turned and fell to his knees beside the only person who had believed in him through everything. His uncle had always been there, from the beach trips to the swordsmanship training, to the Council room, even into exile. What would happen now?

Iroh took a shuddering breath. At least he was alive. But he wasn’t in good shape. Even after everything, the lies and secrets, his uncle had always been there, trying to make things easier, trying to find a way for Zuko to move forward. He couldn’t just let him die.

Zuko turned his head to see Aang and Katara standing nearby. “Help him,” he said, trying to mimic the commanding tone his uncle had used just a few moments ago. “You can heal him. Do it!”

Aang set his mouth in a determined line and sank to his knees beside Zuko. “Katara, some water…” He held out his hand, and the girl brought out some of the water from her pouches and gave it to him. The water flowed over his hand like a glove, and he set it against Iroh’s chest. The old Firebender winced at the contact, but soon his face relaxed as some of the pain died back.

They sat in silence like that while Aang worked. It was several minutes before the Avatar leaned back on his heels and heaved a sigh. Iroh’s wound was not perfect, it would still leave a nasty scar, but the flesh was red and swollen instead of raw and bloody. Zuko tried not to sound ungrateful. “Is that all you can do?” he asked, hoping for an answer he knew would not come.

Carefully, Aang intoned “That is all that I can do.” He looked Zuko in the eyes, but the Prince looked away, back at his uncle. “He will need rest, and care. Will you be able to do that alone?”

Zuko knew what the answer to that was, too. “If I am going to stay with you,” he said, “then we need to set some rules, and he,” he motioned at his uncle, “will have to agree to them, too, when he wakes up.”

He waited for Aang to nod before he kept going. In truth, it gave him some time to think up what rules he would need. “First, no lying. And that includes omission, so no hiding things from me, like your plans to overthrow the Fire Nation, or your visits to my uncle while we were away. I want to know everything that is going on.”

Aang thought for a moment, and then nodded. “It will take some time to tell you everything, but I think I can agree to that.”

“Well… good,” said Zuko, surprised at the wholehearted agreement. “Second, then,” he cast around for another rule that might make travelling with the Avatar more bearable, “take things a little more seriously. You always act like nothing matters, when everything matters. You are dealing with the fate of the world, so stop toying with it.”

With a smile, Aang said, “I can explain why I do that, and you can change that rule if you want, but for now, I accept.”

Zuko was suspicious, but Aang had made a habit of never outright lying, and had just promised not to lie indirectly, so he took a breath and let it go. The last rule he could think of was a big one, but everything hinged on it. “Third,” he started, “you will eventually go with me to the Fire Nation.” He wasn’t sure how Destiny would make it happen, but if the Avatar made that promise, then Destiny would eventually have to oblige.

Aang raised his finger. “Before I agree to that, you will want to know something else,” he said. “Now,” he stopped Zuko from interrupting, “you just made me agree to tell you everything, and to take things seriously, so please allow me to do that.” He set his hands calmly in his lap. “I am an agent of Destiny, but I have no control over it. For most of my life, I have walked wherever the roads took me, and done what needed doing when I got there. Any time I tried to make a conscious effort to attain a major goal contrary to what was right in front of me, things went very badly.” Zuko was surprised and grateful for the straightforward expression on the old Avatar’s face. “So, if you someday intend to return to the Fire Nation with me in tow,” he said, “you will have to be okay with the long and winding timetable that Destiny sets.” He smiled at Zuko. “In short, if you are patient enough, I can agree to that, too.”

The Prince narrowed his eyes, but he’d had enough experience with letting Destiny have its way, lately, that it wouldn’t be a major change to do this, and it would help his uncle get better. For that, and an opportunity to apologize, he would do a lot more than this. He nodded. “I can be patient,” he said, and Aang nodded back. The arrangement was made. “We should get him inside, and get some of these fires put out.”

Katara, eyes like tiny slits of suspicion and mistrust, turned away from Aang and started dousing fires. The Airbender looked at the little Earthbender girl. “Toph, could you help Katara get the fires out?”

Zuko got a good look at the girl now. She had slek, black hair done up in a simple poof on her head, but her hairpiece was made of the finest silk. Her eyes were clouded completely, but she moved and walked without assistance, and had fought Azula with the rest of them. “Of course I can, Twinkle Toes. DON’T underestimate me.” Toph walked down the center of the road after Katara, flicking elbows, wrists, and fingers at various burning structures to topple rocks from the buildings above onto the flames with incredible precision.

Zuko watched her go, and asked softly, “Is she blind?”

Aang looked back at him. “In a manner of speaking. She senses the earth beneath her feet and anything that touches it. She’s quite good at it.” The old Airbender stood and stomped the ground, creating cracks in a circle around Iroh. The slab of earth rose gently. “Let’s get your uncle inside.”

The Prince followed the Avatar.


	28. Bitter Work

Iroh still hadn’t opened his eyes, but at least he looked more peaceful now. Like he was sleeping instead of unconscious or in pain. For Aang’s part, he had been incredibly gentle when moving the old Firebender from their nightly shelters to Nini’s saddle and back. Earthbending was not usually a ‘gentle’ thing. Zuko hadn’t had a good chance to thank him for that.

For two days now, Aang had answered every question Zuko had asked, without a hint of reservation. The plan was just to wander the Earth Kingdom and wait for a path to present itself. Aang wasn’t hiding the fact that he was the Avatar, but he also knew that if he stayed in one place too long, the wrath of the Fire Nation would rain down on everyone around him. Nini wasn’t the last Flying Bison, but she was one of a very small herd living at the Eastern Temple. Yes, the Fire Nation really did shoot children from the sky during the Air Nation Genocide, and had lured and killed Air Nomads for a decade afterward. No, Aang did not think that Ozai would be able to win in a one-on-one fight, comet or no comet.

Sokka and Katara kept throwing nervous and angry glances toward Zuko whenever they thought he wasn’t looking, but they never said anything to him. He supposed it made sense. Zuko had tricked Katara into being an active participant in Aang’s kidnapping - elder-napping? - at the North Pole, and Sokka would back up his sister no matter what. The two of them were the only family they had. But they both took their cues from Aang when push came to shove, and Zuko hadn’t had to endure anything more than stares.

The new addition was significantly more interesting. Toph was in fact completely blind, but she could tell you how many fingers you were holding behind your back. Aang was very curious to learn her particular style of Earthbending, but she was more concerned with Iroh’s recovery. “We met on the road, before we got to the town,” she said. “He gave me some very good advice. He didn’t know I was travelling with the Avatar, though, and I didn’t know his nephew was the Prince of the Fire Nation.” The last phrase she said with a shudder in her voice, though Zuko couldn’t tell if it was fear or fury yet.

The group had settled down in a narrow canyon the night before. Now, streaks of morning sunlight arched across the sky, and the group had begun tearing down the tents for the day. Zuko saw his uncle’s shoulders rock to the side and his eyes began to flutter open. The old Firebender muttered “Lu Ten?” and groaned as he tried slowly to sit upright.

Zuko dropped the bundle of blankets he was holding and rushed to kneel in the familiar place beside his uncle. “Uncle? Lay back,” he instructed, and put a light hand against his uncle’s shoulder. “You were unconscious. Azula did this to you. It was a surprise attack.”

With surprising strength, Iroh pushed his nephew’s hand aside and sat up. “Somehow, that’s not so surprising,” he groaned, rubbing at his bandaged chest.

At the sound of Iroh’s voice, Aang picked up a cup he had placed near the fire and stepped quickly toward them. “Old friend,” he admonished, “if you’re going to insist on sitting up, at least let us help you do it without hurting yourself.” He leaned down to place the cup into Iroh’s hand, then punched the ground beside him. A wide wege of gently sloped earth rose behind Iroh’s back, high enough to support his head and angled enough for him to lean against it comfortably.

Zuko could smell the tea from here, and his uncle held it close to his face and inhaled deeply. He took a slow sip and sighed. “Avatar Aang, this is as good as anything you have made for me. Thank you.” Aang nodded and smiled.

“So Uncle,” Zuko started, “I’ve been thinking.” He rubbed his head, and noticed that his hair had grown. It made him pause. Things really were changing so quickly. “It’s only a matter of time before I run into Azula again. Even if you and Aang and Katara are there to help, I’m going to need to know more advanced Firebending, if I want to stand a chance against her.” He knew his uncle was listening - he had closed his eyes and lowered the cup of tea into his lap. “I know what you’re going to say: she’s my sister and I should be trying to get along with her.” After all, Zuko had heard that line from his uncle before, and his mother, and his teachers, and his swordsmanship instructor.

Iroh opened his eyes, and surprised Zuko. “No, she is lost, and is acting like a pawn for my brother. You will have to go through her to reach your goals eventually.” Zuko nodded. As different as this was, it was honest, and it meant they would keep moving forward. His uncle finished his cup of tea, set the cup gently to the side, and to Zuko’s alarm, started to pull his feet under him and stand. The resilient old man only winced once, when he was nearly vertical, and then suddenly the great General was standing before Zuko again. “It’s time to resume your training.”

In short order, the camp was packed away, and the rest of the group had gone off down the ravine a short distance. Katara and Sokka were working on Sokka’s accuracy with his boomerang by having Katara hold a sphere of water high above him and move it around as a target. Iroh had finally convinced Toph that he would be okay, and the blind Earthbender had blindfolded Aang and was dancing around him and hitting him with rocks at random intervals. Iroh himself was sitting beside the fire, breathing deeply and sipping his tea, so Zuko followed suit. Whatever his uncle was about to show him clearly needed calm and focus. He counted to four on the inhale and six on the exhale, and took a sip from the cup in his hands.

Iroh began abruptly, startling Zuko into opening his eyes. “Lightning is a pure form of Firebending, without aggression,” he explained. Would he teach Zuko how to bend Lightning? “It is not fueled by rage or emotion the way other Firebending is. Some call it the cold-blooded fire. It is precise and deadly, like Azula.” There was no malice in his voice, just explanation. “To perform the technique requires peace of mind.”

“I see,” said Zuko, tempering his excitement. “That’s why we’re drinking tea. To calm the mind.” He took an eager sip from his cup.

Iroh smiled. “Oh, yeah, good point!” Zuko stared at him. Maybe the old Firebender was still reeling from his injuries after all. With a cough, his uncle continued, “I mean, yes.” He bowed his head in a serene gesture.

Zuko didn't buy that for a moment, but he did have to chuckle at it. It was the kind of thing Iroh used to do when he took all the royal kids out to the beach. His uncle stood and set his tea cup aside. Zuko gave him his full attention.

“There is energy all around us. The energy is both yin and yang,” Iroh explained patiently, moving his hands back and forth in demonstration. “Positive energy and negative energy. Firebending takes this energy and gives it form, as a whole, positive and negative together. Only a select few Firebenders can separate these energies.” Zuko was beginning to see why the lesson in the basic mechanics of Firebending was important. “This creates an imbalance, and the energy wants to restore balance. In the moment that the positive and negative energies come crashing back together, you provide release and guidance, creating lightning.”

He took a step away from the fire. Zuko watched intently, learning the form and trying to contain his impatience. Iroh held two fingers straight, the same way Azula had that day on the ship. He slowly spun his hands one-at-a-time in wide circles in front of him. After a moment, a tingle of electricity filled the air, like the feeling Zuko remembered from walking on carpets in silk socks in the winter, but immeasurably stronger. At the tips of his uncle’s fingers, there was a faint glow. That was where the energy was focused, carefully being torn apart by Iroh’s will, trying desperately to come back together.

With a sharp jab of his arm, Iroh sent a thin streak of lightning arcing up and away from them to strike a high area on the ravine wall. The flash left spots in Zuko’s eyes, and the crash of thunder set the ringing in his ears to a more deafening volume. He could smell a kind of sharp burning, like a fire made of something other than wood had just been snuffed out and the smoke was still thick in the air. “I’m ready to try it!” he called and jumped to his feet. This was perfect! He could beat Azula at her own game. 

“Remember,” his uncle cautioned, but gave way for Zuko to take his place, “once you separate the energy, you do not command it. You are simply its humble guide.” Zuko took the stance, tall and strong. “Breathe first.”

Zuko counted four on the inhale. He stepped his foot out to ground himself. He focused on the energy of Firebending. He hadn’t known that energy could be split like that, but now, feeling its flow in from his breath to his stomach, and out to his limbs, he could feel the two halves swirling together. But he couldn’t tell which one was the positive energy and which one was the negative energy. He pushed the energy out to his fingers, except instead of sending it out to become fire, he held it there, just beyond his fingertips. It seemed right that the form was a wide circle. He picked one of the energies and, as he moved, he placed and left it in the air around him. He kept the other half at his fingertips. Was it working? He definitely felt something.

He struck out with his hand, aiming the energy at his fingertips just like he would aim a fire blast, directing the energy he had placed in the circle to follow along and make the lightning as it went. Instead, the moment he released the energy in his fingertips, all of it from both halves crashed together at the same moment. The explosion knocked him backward onto the ground.

Okay, that hadn’t worked. Nothing ever had the first time he tried. He stood up and brushed off the dust from his clothes. He couldn’t hear what his uncle said over the ringing in his ears, but he had seen the old Master shake his head in admonition. It would work this time. Zuko took his stance.

He tried again and again, curling the energy into a tight arrow, switching which energy he kept and which he spread around him, using his other hand as the focal point, even sending everything forward just to see if he could get the rebound explosion to happen more than two feet from his face, but nothing worked. He was blown back every time.

“Why can’t I do it?” he cried in frustration. “Instead of lightning, it keeps exploding in my face!” He remembered Lee, and Song, and his miserable failures at trying to survive on his own, and he thought of just how far he still had to go. “Like everything always does.” He knew that wasn’t a fair conclusion; most of those things had eventually worked out. He learned and grew despite Destiny refusing to give him any slack, ever. But he was frustrated, and hurt, and this felt like a message from Destiny. If so, it was screaming at him loud and clear. You will never beat your sister, and you will never defeat the Avatar, and you will never go home.

His uncle’s calm voice penetrated his thoughts. “I was afraid this might happen,” he said, but the same idea, the helplessness and despair that Zuko felt, held peace and hope from Iroh’s mouth. “You will not be able to master lightning until you have dealt with the turmoil inside you.”

There might be a way, then. “What turmoil?” he asked, desperate for the answer.

Iroh knelt in the dirt beside him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Zuko, you must let go of your feelings of shame if you want your anger to go away.”

“But I don’t feel any shame at all,” he protested. “I’m as proud as ever.” He remembered standing tall and declaring himself Prince of the Fire Nation, just before Lee turned on him. He remembered his pride in learning a new Firebending form all on his own, when no one was there to help him.

“Prince Zuko,” said Iroh formally, using his title to demonstrate his point. “Pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source.” He helped Zuko to his feet. “True humility is the only antidote to shame.” He motioned for Zuko to look out across the ravine, to where Toph and Aang were sparring with Earthbending. Aang was still blindfolded, but wasn’t just taking the hits anymore. He had learned. “Even the Avatar understands that humility is important, and never places himself above the rest of us. Both he and his student have learned something new today.”

Zuko watched Aang throw a rock directly at Toph without seeing her, and he watched Toph pull and redirect the rock around her to send it back at Aang without losing momentum. That was a Waterbending form. She had no way of knowing that before today. Zuko hung his head. “Well, my life has been nothing but humbling lately.”

Iroh’s thoughtful pause filled the silence. “I have another idea.” Zuko looked at him. What more could he do, if Zuko could never master lightning? “I will teach you a Firebending move that even Azula doesn’t know, because I made it up myself.”

“You made up a new form?” Bending forms were like words in a language. You could string them together in different ways, some people could even do it beautifully, but you couldn’t just make up new forms and have it work.

His uncle raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side playfully. “I did, and I got the idea from studying the Waterbenders.” He motioned for Zuko to look at Aang and Toph again. Even blindfolded, Aang was Earthbending just as precisely as he had before, and he was doing it very differently than Gow had at the village, or than Haru had before that. The rock beneath his feet seemed to leap to do his bidding, and often moved in fast, flowing ways that seemed impossible. “You see, it is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Remember how easily Katara bested Master Pakku at the North Pole?” Zuko nodded. “She was using knowledge of the other elements to improve her understanding of her native element. Understanding others, the other elements, and the other nations will help you become whole.”

“All this four elements stuff is sounding more like his cup of tea,” said Zuko, jabbing his thumb toward Aang.

Iroh nodded sagely, as if he was a philosopher whose student had just touched on a deep realization. “It is the combination of the four elements in one person that makes the Avatar so powerful. But it can make you more powerful, too.” As an example, he took a half-step out and settled into a stance that was familiar, but definitely not a Firebending stance. His knees were loose, his feet were too close together, and instead of fists his hands were held open and relaxed.

“Waterbenders deal with the flow of energy,” said the old Master, slowly moving his arms in circles. “A Waterbender lets their defense become their offence,” flames began to encircle him, like a more solid and stable version of the fire shield that had saved Zuko so many times, “turning their opponents’ energy against them.” The completed shield bulged out on one side, and a streak of flame broke away and hit a nearby rock pillar, without leaving the slightest hole in the shield for even a moment. Iroh let the flames dissipate and brought his hands back to center. “I learned a way to do this with lightning.”

Zuko’s mind flashed back to when Azula had started to throw lightning on her ship just after they had left the North pole, and then to the fishing boat in the typhoon when his uncle had sent a bolt of natural lightning off into the sea to protect them all. “You can teach me to redirect lightning?”

Iroh nodded again, this time with a wide grin spreading across his face. He widened his stance into a familiar Firebending form. “If you let the energy in your own body flow, the lightning will follow it.” He raised his arms, two fingers extended, and Zuko stepped closer to mimic the movements. “You must create a pathway from your fingertips, up your arm to your shoulder, then down into your stomach.” His right arm stayed straight, and his left traced the path he was describing. It was a line that Zuko had noticed his own energy following when he tried to create lightning earlier. “The stomach is the source of energy in your body. It is called the sea of chi, only in my case it is more like a vast ocean!” He slapped his belly, which was considerably smaller than it was when they had lived comfortably on the Fire Navy ship, but still bounced when he laughed.

Zuko tried not to sigh. His uncle really enjoyed making these jokes, and they had been funny when Zuko was little and hadn’t heard them a million times. He just had to wait for the old Firebender to continue. Iroh obliged. “From the stomach, you direct it up again, and out the other arm. The stomach detour is critical,” he said with uncharacteristic seriousness, tapping Zuko’s chest. “You must not let the lightning pass through your heart, or the damage could be deadly.” He let a few seconds go by in silence to let the seriousness of that statement sink in. It wasn’t lost on Zuko. “You may wish to try a physical motion, to get a feel for the pathway’s flow, like this,” Iroh continued, and reached to raise his nephew’s elbows another inch, to put them in the right place for the form. Then he stretched out his own arms to match, and moved his hand along his arm, guiding Zuko’s motions. After a couple of repetitions, Iroh asked, “Now, are you focusing your energy? Can you feel your own chi flowing in, down, up, and out?”

“I think so,” said Zuko. He followed the form and closed his eyes, feeling the swirling energy from defore and trying to direct it along the path. When he reached the end on one side, he reversed his movements, and directed the energy to flow the other way, back through his stomach and up his other arm. Back and forth, to and fro, push and pull like the waves on the sea. It made sense that this was a Waterbending style.

He kept at it until the form felt natural, and the energy flowed smoothly through his limbs. Finally, his uncle exclaimed, “Excellent! You’ve got it!”

Zuko opened his eyes and beamed with pride. “Great, I’m ready to try it with real lightning!”

“What?” Iroh dropped his stance and faced his nephew with wide eyes. “Are you serious? Lightning is very dangerous!”

Zuko was confused. “I thought that was the point of you teaching me to protect myself from it!” He didn’t understand how he could learn a technique without testing it. He had always used new Firebending forms against Iroh before, and his uncle had returned the attacks in kind, teaching Zuko to defend. This was how it worked.

But the old Master was balking at the idea of it now. “Yeah! But I’m not going to shoot lightning at you!” His agitated tone had caught Aang’s attention, and Zuko had an idea. “If you’re lucky, you will never have to use this technique at all!”

“Well, if you won’t help me,” the Prince responded, stepping past his uncle toward the approaching Avatar, “maybe he will.” He already had Aang’s attention, so he raised his voice and called, “Can you Bend lightning?”

Aang’s face clouded with concern. “Well, yes, it’s a focused and spiritual thing,” he began, “but Zuko, I can’t teach you any easier than your uncle can-”

“Hit me with it.”

“What?” Aang sounded even more alarmed than Iroh had. “No, I’m not going to put your life in that kind of danger!”

Zuko thought maybe Aang hadn’t realized what he had spent his day learning. “But I know how to redirect it now. I have to test it!”

Aang glanced at Iroh for a moment before returning to Zuko’s request. “If I have learned anything, it is that it is never wise to tempt fate like that,” he insisted.

“Why not?” Zuko’s frustrations were piling into this moment, reminding him that nothing ever went his way.

Aang studied the Prince’s face for a moment before answering. “Because,” he said, moving closer and crouching to look Zuko in the eyes, “Destiny is a fickle thing. You and I will undoubtedly face life-threatening situations in the not-so-distant future. The comet is returning, there is no escaping that.” Zuko felt the honesty in the Airbender’s voice. He wasn’t hiding anything this time. “We don’t get to decide when our lives will be threatened, we only get to decide what we do about it. If I were to do this, to put you in mortal danger without the stress and experience of reaching that scenario naturally, you may not live to fulfill your obligations elsewhere.”

The explanation was confusing, and Zuko was having some trouble parsing the abstract ideas, so Aang simplified it. “If you die now because you were not fully prepared, you can never become Fire Lord. And if I kill you here, I will never be able to reclaim my spiritual heritage. It would destroy us both, and everything we strive for.”

Destiny, thought Zuko. He had been trying to have more trust in his destiny. And Aang was trying to trust his destiny. And his uncle was likely trying to trust his own destiny. Both of them were counseling patience, and Zuko had learned the value of that recently. He took a deep breath, let go of his frustration, and nodded.


	29. The Oasis

Aang leapt from Nini’s head into her saddle. “So where do we want to go next?” The wide, excited grin on his face was as infectious as ever, and Zuko had to fight back a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Sokka put on his serious face and pulled out a very old map. From what Zuko could see of it, it had nearly nothing matching what his maps on the ship had shown, and had quite a few things that Zuko had never heard of before. “Sozin’s comet is coming,” he asserted, “so we will need to go somewhere with information where we can plan.”

“Or,” offered Katara, “we can pick cultural sites or beautiful natural phenomena to visit and see.” She glanced at the map and read off, “The Misty Palms Oasis. Sounds like it might be refreshing.”

The Airbender smiled wide. “Oh, yeah,” he gushed, “I’ve been there. It’s a pristine natural ice spring. And I don’t usually use the word ‘pristine’. It’s one of nature’s wonders.” He looked to Toph, sitting with her whole arm wrapped through the handhold on the edge of Nini’s saddle. “What do you think, Toph?”

The blind Earthbender scoffed and shrugged her shoulders. “Information usually means lots of fukin’ books, and I won’t be much help there. My vote is for the oasis.”

Aang turned to look at Zuko with raised eyebrows. He wanted the Prince’s input? “Uhh,” Zuko started, but had nowhere to go. He really hadn’t ever thought he would be on this side of the decision. “Let’s… go see the oasis?” He wasn’t too fond of the idea of planning his own country’s downfall, so Katara’s idea made the most sense.

“Oasis it is, then,” Aang proclaimed with a wide sweep of his arms. He leapt back to Nini’s reins and pulled her into a gentle turn. Sokka grumbled a little, but settled down. Katara walked to the front of the saddle to help Aang hold the map. Iroh just beamed at Zuko with pride from his seat at the back.

Nini landed at the gate of the desert town around lunchtime. The oasis itself was the only thing around for miles. People milled about the scattered, tattered shopfronts, hiding in the shade of the overhangs from windows and doors to escape the punishing sun. Zuko pulled his hat low over his eyes, hopped down from the saddle, and reflexively patted the water pouch slung over his shoulder. It was about two-thirds full. He would need to refill it if they planned to stay here long.

Past the gate of the desert town, they caught their first glimpse of the oasis in question. The icon on the old map had shown a tall ice pillar with palm trees stretching over it. In reality, the ice was cracked, melting quickly, and surrounded on all sides by sand and dirt. Even the buildings were made of sand, held together by the occasional sprig of bamboo or wood.

All the people Zuko saw were covered head to toe in long, sand-colored robes. Many had hats over the robes to shield their eyes from the sun, and a few wore what looked like leather blindfolds with thin slits at the eyes. Aang’s bright orange robes actually fit in better here than the blue and green the rest of the group wore, but his tattoos still drew eyes. He strode forward and stopped at the edge of the ice spring, oblivious to the stares of the sandy townspeople. A few small reptiles skittered away into cracks and burrows as he knelt in the sand. His eyes spoke of sadness, but his voice was still playful. “Must’ve changed ownership since I was here…”

Iroh laid a hand on his shoulder, and the Avatar stood. He looked around and spotted the sign he was looking for. “There,” he pointed it out for the kids, “we can get some lunch there and decide on our next move.” He sauntered ahead, and the rest of them followed in his wake.

As they crossed the threshold, Zuko had to pause and let his eyes adjust to the gloom. There were no candles or lanterns, and the small windows were curtained to keep as much of the sand out as possible. Slowly, Zuko started to be able to make out shapes and movements, and the desert bar came into focus.

Tan robes were everywhere, but in here hoods had been pulled down and hats set aside. Dark skin and deep wrinkles were the norm, even on people who otherwise looked young. Most people sat alone or in groups of two. Whispers and murmurs of conversation left a pleasant hum in the air. At the bar, someone asked for “One mango, please,” and the bartender drew a pair of dual broadswords as tools. The smell of fresh fruit and ice filled the air.

He heard his uncle turn and say, “Ooh, a Pai Sho board.”

Sokka nearly bounded toward the counter. “I don’t see anything wrong with having one of those fruity beverages while we plan our strategy.” His sister followed eagerly.

Aang turned to ask Zuko and Toph what they wanted to do, and didn’t see the man from the bar turn and start walking with his head down to slurp at his drink. Zuko only had time to watch as the tan-robed man bumped into Aang’s arm, tripped over the hem of his own robe, and spilled the entire fresh drink down the front of the flowing orange robes.

Aang caught the man before he fell, and put him back on his feet. The man started to splutter an apology, but a waving hand stopped him. “No worries,” said the Avatar with a laugh, “I clean up easy.” He took a step back to make room, and punched his fists together in front of him, creating a brief whirlwind that ruffled his clothes and left him as dry and clean as he had been thirty seconds ago.

The stranger’s eyes went wide. “You’re a living relic!” he gasped, gaze flashing over Aang’s orange robes, blue tattoos, and intricate beaded necklace. “An Air Nomad, right in front of me.” He grabbed Aang’s hand and shook it. “Professor Zei, head of Anthropology at Ba Sing Se University,” he rattled off by way of an introduction, then held the hand up to the meager light and stared at the arrow tattoo. “Tell me, which of the air temples do you hail from?”

Aang’s eyes sparkled with glee, like a kid with a new birthday present. “I was raised in the Southern Temple,” he said, letting Zei turn his hand over and even pull up the wrist of his sleeve a few inches, following the tattoo up his arm.

“Oh, splendid!” the professor exclaimed, pulling a set of calipers from the pocket of his bag. “Now tell me, what was the primary agricultural product of your people?” He set the points of the calipers at Aang’s ears and measured the size of his head, marvelling again at the tattoo, and then pulled out a journal to record whatever his findings were.

The Airbender laughed and joked, “Are fruit pies an agricultural product?” Sokka and Katara returned from the bar, each with an ice bowl holding a mango drink, and shot confused looks at Zuko, who shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

Zei’s delighted grin only widened. “Oh, truly fascinating,” he tittered. “That is one for the journal.” He scribbled furiously at the weathered pages of his notebook. Aang looked on in astonished wonder, clearly caught off guard by his joke being taken seriously.

“So, Professor,” Sokka intervened, “you’re obviously a well-travelled man.” Zuko wasn’t sure how, but the fourteen-year-old was projecting an air of leadership, and Zei was listening. “Do you have a more current map? Ours seems to be a little dated.” Come to think of it, had Sokka been the only older boy in the South Pole? Zuko was struggling to remember - it had been so long ago now - but it felt like everyone in the icey village had been either very old or very young, except the siblings here.

Zei only paused for a moment to say “Certainly,” and hand Sokka a scroll of paper before he continued his inspection of Aang. The Water Tribe boy gladly took it, and led the way to an empty table large enough for the map to fully unroll. He pinned the edges under hunks of stale bread from his pack.

Immediately, Zuko spotted the problem that would vex Sokka’s inquisitive mind. The map was of the Earth Kingdom, and stretched no farther West than Ember Island, in the tail of the archipelago. “What, no Fire Nation?” the boy complained, to Zuko’s amusement. “Doesn’t anybody have a good map of that place?”

Katara studied the map over her brother’s shoulder. “You’ve made a lot of trips into the desert,” she remarked to Zei, and Zuko noticed the sketched lines on the page, starting here at the oasis and snaking in various directions.

Zei stood from examining the workmanship of Aang’s fitted shoes. “All in vain, I’m afraid.” He sighed. “I’ve found lost civilizations all over the Earth Kingdom, but I haven’t managed to find the crown jewel,” he lamented, raising a fist in the air, “Wan Shi Tong’s Library.”

Toph scoffed from her chair. “You spent years walking through the desert to find some asshole’s library?” Her high, sweet voice dripped with disbelief and sarcasm.

Zei’s adoration of the idea was not lessened in the slightest. “This library is more valuable than gold, little lady,” he explained. “It is said to contain a vast collection of knowledge, and knowledge is priceless.”

The professor held up a finger like he had clearly won the debate, but Toph just shifted in her chair and countered, “Hmm, sounds like good times.”

“Oh, it is,” said Zei, oblivious to the irony of describing the wonders of a library to a blind girl. “According to legend, it was built by the great Knowledge Spirit, Wan Shi Tong, with the help of his foxy knowledge seekers.”

Sokka leaned forward with a hand flat on the map. “Oh, so this spirit has attractive assistants, huh?” Zuko stifled a chuckle with his arm, turning it into a cough.

Katara put a lazy hand against her brother’s head and pushed him aside. “I think he means they look like actual foxes, Sokka.”

“You’re both right,” said Zei with a flourish, drawing surprise and raised eyebrows from the siblings. “Handsome little creatures.” He quickly reached into his bag and found another rolled-up paper, which he spread out on top of the map. This one had an incredibly detailed drawing of a massive building, with tall towers, arched roofs, and sharp spires covering a wide area of sandy ground and stretching far into the sky. This was the library? How could it be undiscovered? “Wan Shi Tong and his knowledge seekers collected books from all over the world, and put them on display for mankind to read, so that we might better ourselves.”

Aang whistled appreciatively at the drawing and leaned in to get a better look. Sokka backed away a step to make room, and instead asked, “If this place has books from all over the world, do you think they’ve got info on the Fire Nation? A map, maybe?”

For a few seconds, Zuko was annoyed that Sokka would even try to plan an attack on the Fire Nation with the Prince standing right here, and then he stopped and thought, at least Sokka wasn’t asking Zuko to assist. He took a deep breath in, held it for a moment, and then sighed. Zei continued obliviously, “I wouldn’t know, but if such a thing exists, it’s in Wan Shi Tong’s Library.”

“It’s settled, then,” said Sokka with a grandiose wave of his arm. “The next sight we should see is… The Library!” When no one moved or reacted, he slowly lowered his arm.

The professor rolled up his drawing again to reveal the map. “Of course, there’s the matter of finding it,” he mused, tracing one of the longer paths he had drawn across the desert. “I’ve made several trips into the Si Wong Desert and almost died each time. I’m afraid that desert’s impossible to cross.”

Aang had a sixth sense for when he could delight someone. The familiar mischievous smile spread across his face, and he grabbed Zei’s shoulder with a gentle shake. “Professor, would you like to see my sky bison?”

Zuko quickly tuned out the giddy chatter and squeals from Professor Zei, and gladly stayed behind when Aang escorted the man outside to meet Nini. He scanned the tables for his uncle. Hopefully the old Firebender hadn’t gotten himself into a serious Pai Sho tournament. At least in the Fire Nation, people could get very passionate about the game, and Iroh would undoubtedly beat everyone here so easily that they would suspect him of cheating. He spotted the balding, gray-haired head sitting at a low table tucked away in the back corner of the room. Across from him, a thin man in more decorative tan robes studied the board closely but made no moves.

“Uncle,” he said softly, “it looks like we will be leaving soon.” His uncle nodded and waved his hand to acknowledge the message, but Zuko knew he would keep his eyes on his opponent until the game was over. He took a moment to look over the board. From what he could tell, the man was roundly beaten. The end of the game was just a decision away.

“Aargh!” the man exclaimed, and slapped the table. “You win!” He started picking up his pieces and placing them in a decorative pouch with the image of a large, painted Pai Sho tile on the outside, the lotus tile if Zuko recognized it right from this angle. The man noticed Zuko’s attention, and looked up at him, first with boredom, then with amazement. “Is this him, then?”

Iroh gave a hearty laugh and swept his pieces into a pile in front of him on the table. “It is, and we appreciate your discretion.”

“Anything for a Grand Lotus,” said the man, and with a bow and a hand motion like opening a book, he retreated from the table.

Zuko shot his uncle a look of suspicion. “What was that about?”

“That is something I have not yet told you about, and something that will take some time to fully explain,” the old Firebender whispered, stashing his Pai Sho pieces in his pockets. “For now, it will have to be enough to say that he is a friend, and has secured a good deal of water for us and Nini while we are in the desert area.”

“That’s good,” Zuko replied, choosing his words and keeping a steady tone to remind his uncle that he did in fact want an explanation eventually, “because we are probably headed into the deep desert to search for a spirit library.”

Iroh paused and turned his head to Zuko with one eyebrow raised. The Prince shrugged and pursed his lips off to one side. With a nod, the older man swept the rest of his game tiles off the table and stood. “We should fetch the water, then.”

Outside the bar, the sun was higher in the sky and even more punishing than when they had escaped it earlier. Iroh led Zuko to a smaller building, where the thin man from before had piled dozens of individual waterskins beside four barrels, all filled with water. In a desert town, that much water had to be worth a small fortune. But when Zuko started to ask about it, the man made a motion for him to be quiet and said, “Please, don’t mention it.”

The water was heavy, but most of the smaller pouches had straps and could be slung across someone’s back, and Zuko himself could carry six of those without issue. When they got back to Nini with the rolling cart full of water, Aang called, “Oh, great idea! We’ll definitely need water,” and the rest of the group had no reason to question it. Katara Waterbent it all up into the saddle, and Sokka tied it down. Zuko would get to the bottom of this. There would be time.

Nini groaned before she lifted off the sands, and Zuko knew she hated this heat as much as he did. He sat near the back of her saddle and watched the oasis fall away and grow smaller in the distance as they flew out into a sea of shifting golden sand. “Uncle,” he said finally, turning away from the oasis and locking his uncle in his gaze, “there’s time and privacy now. Tell me what that was about.”

Zuko followed his uncle’s gaze, and saw the professor crawling carefully down Nini’s face to ask her a question she couldn’t answer. “That was a friend,” he muttered under his breath, forcing Zuko to lean in to hear him. “A member of an organization that I am also a part of. He is one of many who I can turn to for help without any questions.”

The Prince sat beside his uncle and tried to be inconspicuous. “What is this group? Have I seen any other members? Why are Earth Kingdom citizens in a position to help a member of the Fire Nation royal family?”

“It is called the Order of the White Lotus,” he said cryptically, “and is a multi-national group. We both have likely seen many members on our journey, but not known them without an opportunity for either of us to identify ourselves.” He held out his hands like he was holding a book, and opened them. Not a book, Zuko realized, a lotus flower. And a lotus tile. And always with the Pai Sho games. A lot of confusing things about his uncle were making more sense.

Professor Zei moved back into the main saddle area with Iroh and the kids, and Zuko stopped asking questions. This was definitely something to keep secret. There was a whole group of people who didn’t care about national boundaries? That had to be why the old General seemed content with his more treasonous acts against the Throne, as long as the act helped average people. Aargh, this was so confusing!

“There it is!” shouted Toph, pointing out over the empty sea of sand dunes and dust devils. All eyes turned to see what she was pointing at, but nothing was there. Zuko looked back at the blind Earthbender, and it came to him. She was blind. Away from her Earthbending senses, she couldn’t see anything. “That’s what it’ll sound like when one of you dumbasses spots it,” she said with heavy sarcasm. She made a silly, grinning face and waved her hand in front of her clouded eyes.

Zuko sat back and huffed. He had fallen for it, same as everyone else. With Aang watching forward and Katara and Sokka each watching the sides through spyglasses, all he could do was wait. Hopefully he didn’t have to wait long.

Katara groaned and sat back on her heels. “It shouldn’t be this hard to spot a giant, ornate building from the air!”

Off in the far distance, Zuko thought he could just make out an irregularity on the horizon, shimmering in the heat. “Hey,” he said, pointing in the direction, “there, what’s that?” Sokka and Zei held their telescopes to their eyes, and Aang steered Nini toward it to get a better look. It was closer than it had seemed in the flickering heat waves. A thin spire rose several stories high from the sand, with elegant spirals carved up the stone walls to join with intricate window frames under the overhang of a teardrop-shaped roof.

Katara held out the drawing Professor Zei had shown them earlier. “Forget it,” she groaned. “It’s obviously not what we’re looking for. The building in this drawing is enormous.”

A spot of movement and a shine of metal near the sand at the base of the thin tower drew Zuko’s eyes. It was something small, maybe furry? Sokka whispered, “What kind of animal is that?” As Nini drew closer, the figure resolved itself into the image of a fox, with something metal clamped in its jaws. As they all watched, the fox ran toward the tower, and then up the wall, more than thirty feet perfectly vertical, to slip inside through one of the high windows.

Zei leaned eagerly out from Nini’s saddle. “I think that was one of the knowledge seekers,” he breathed in disbelief. “Oh, we must be close to the library!”

Sokka stood just behind his sister to examine the drawing, and grew serious. “No, this is the library - look.” Zuko thought for a moment the Water Tribe boy had gone completely insane under the desert sun, until he pointed at the tiny spire atop the main dome ceiling of the library in the drawing. “It’s completely buried.”


	30. The Library

“The library is buried?!” cried Professor Zei, kneeling in the sand of a desert dune. The tall spire that they now knew to be just the tip of the central dome of Wan Shi Tong’s Spirit Library seemed to lean over them, taunting them with the knowledge that the entire collected knowledge of man- and spirit-kind was right beneath their feet, and completely inaccessible. “My life’s ambition is now full of sand…” He let his hands fall to the ground at his sides. Then, like the flip of a coin, his despairing face lit with new excitement, and he took a small trowel from one of his robe pockets. “Well,” he said, “time to start excavating.”

To Zuko’s exasperation, the man actually began moving tiny shovels-full of sand from in front of him to beside him. It wasn’t even a different dune. The professor was literally doing nothing, but enthusiastically. Zuko heard Toph scoff her own exasperation, and the blind Earthbender walked forward to the wall of the tower. She rammed her flat hand into the rock of the wall. “Actually, that won’t be necessary,” she said. “The inside seems to be completely intact.” She dug her fingers into the stone, and it gave way under her Earthbending like wet clay. “And it’s huge,” she added with awe.

Sokka was immediately working on a plan. “That foxy thing went in through a window,” he reasoned. “I say we climb up there and give it a look.”

“I say you guys go ahead without me,” Toph answered abruptly. She trend away from the spire and shuffled over to Nini’s shadow.

Katara turned with surprise. “You got something against libraries?” she chided playfully, but almost immediately realized her error.

“I’ve held books before,” replied Toph, eliciting looks of sheepish apology from every direction except Zuko. “And I gotta tell ya, they don’t exactly do it for me.”

Katara turned away. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

With a quick sigh and kind smile, Toph softened her sarcastic bite and said “Let me know if they have something you can listen to.”

Aang and Iroh were standing at the base of the tower now, muttering ideas back and forth about how to get up to the high windows that seemed to be the only opening in the rock.The Airbender was saying, “I don’t relish the idea of making a dozen trips back and forth on my glider for people and supplies.”

The old Firebender mused, “We should all try to carry our own water, as well, though we should leave most of that here for Nini to drink should we take too long.”

“I could fly up with a rope and tie it of to the windowframe.”

“That looks like a very wide pillar between windows. I don’t think a knot would be secure enough to lift everyone,” Iroh countered, resting his arms across his belly to make his point.

Zuko saw Sokka’s face turn and eyes light up as the Water Tribe boy realized what was being discussed. “I have a boomerang!” he exclaimed and ran the few slow steps through sand to reach the older men. When they turned and stared quizzically at him, he skidded to a stop in front of them and explained. “We can tie the rope securely through this hole,” he held out his boomerang to show them the hole in one side designed for just such a purpose, “and the boomerang can brace the rope against itself, no need to worry about the size of the pillar!”

“Sokka, you’re a genius!” said Aang, and within a minute the rope had been secured to the boomerang and the Avatar had flown it up to the window himself. A few loops through the rope and the boomerang was securely wedged between rock and rope, not to be moved until they needed it. Aang glided back to the sands. “All set. Time to go.” Zuko shouldered four pouches of water and made his way over to the tower, but watched Aang approach Nini and mumble to her, “Don’t worry, my young friend. I’m not going to ask you to go underground ever again. You can stay out here and keep Toph company.”

When had Nini been underground? Zuko reached the rope and felt the sand shudder under his feet as the bison flopped onto her belly and gave a sad kind of groan. The Prince started climbing, behind Katara and Sokka, with Zei and his uncle behind him. The kids reached the top and nimbly stepped around the narrow ledge to the other windows to make room for the adults, and Aang glided in slow circles around the outside, monitoring their progress.

Iroh was the last to reach the top, and pulled the rope up after him. He dropped it down the inside wall of the tower. “So, who wants to go first?”

Professor Zei eagerly grabbed the rope and slid down into the vast library below. Sokka and Katara followed close behind, and Iroh motioned for Zuko to go next. The Prince watched Aang glide up to a window and land like a flying squirrel on the narrow ledge. The Avatar locked a curiously heavy gaze on Zuko, part excitement, part eagerness, part apprehension, part resignation, but all willingness. “Whaddaya say, Zuko? Once more into the unknown?”

The man had gone insane with isolation and the weight of Destiny. That was Zuko’s best guess so far. He returned the gaze, his own full of rebellion and determination. “Race you to the bottom.” He saw a flicker of a delighted smile flash across Aang’s face, and threw his feet over the edge of the windowsill. He knew he would lose a race against a man who could fly, especially with the rest of the group clinging to the rope beneath him, but what was the harm in a little competition?

The rope was rough and easy to hold, and he slid onward a foot at a time. He kept one eye downward to track Katara’s progress, as she kept an eye downward to Sokka. The fifty-foot tower opened up at the bottom into a vast, cavernous atrium area, with several floors of balconies along the walls stretching back into long rows and hallways lined with shelves as far as the eye could see. On each endlessly tall pillar, near the top on a level with where Zuko clung to the rope, were massive, intricately carved owl heads set with onyx eyes that seemed to glitter and follow the movement of the light.

Zuko glanced upward at his uncle, and was stunned by the gorgeous tile mosaic across the domed ceiling. Muted greens and blues served as a soft backdrop for several gigantic black owls, with wings spread wide and stark white heart-shaped faces square with the image’s perspective, giving the impression that the entire place was always watched over by the silent, unmoving guardians.

Everywhere Zuko looked, he could find ever-smaller depictions of the owls, on the railings of the ridge beneath them, painted in enamel on the floor, etched into the tall pillars at regular intervals, sculpted into magnificent silver candleholders affixed to the walls, even whittled into the wood of the bookshelves. All around him, glittering onyx eyes stared back out of the green-tinted gloom. It gave the whole building even more of an imposing presence, and made Zuko feel like a child in a conversation with adults, small and insignificant. As he fell closer and closer to the bridge across the cavernous atrium, his skin tingled in a now-familiar reaction to spiritual energy.

Aang swooped past him and looped around the bridge a few times. Zuko focused on sliding down. The rope didn’t quite reach the bridge, and Katara had just dropped off the end to the floor directly beneath him. She moved out of the way and he squirmed as low as he could, finally hanging by just his hands, and let go. His soft cloth shoes made very little sound on the polished floor. He backed away to make room for his uncle, and motioned for Aang to land.

The Avatar’s feet touched down, and Zuko smiled. “I won.”

Aang looked startled. “But I was here first!”

“But my feet touched first. I reached the bottom before you.” The Prince grinned with more triumph than he really felt, but any victory over the Avatar was worth celebrating.

Aang started to reply, but something caught his attention, and he swiveled with a start to stare into the murky abyss of shelves behind him. His quick movement and sudden silence brought Katara to alert, and she ushered her brother and the professor behind a pillar at the other end of the bridge. Zuko turned to help his uncle down the last few feet of rope, and they took refuge behind a second pillar.

From the shadows of the balcony above, seemingly materializing from nothing, an immense, black owl with a white moon-shaped face shuffled forward on awkward talons. Zuko’s skin tingled, and a sense of power suffused the air. The great bird slunk forward and observed, and Zuko was sure he saw the beady black eyes land on the pillar where he was hiding. This was no enraged panda bear like Hei Bai. This spirit was highly intelligent, and did not appreciate company. He opened his beak, and the voice that came out didn’t match the avian movements. “So, the Avatar has deigned to grace my library, and he has brought his friends.” The deep, sonorous echo sent chills down Zuko’s spine. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

In the hazy, dusty gloom, the spirit seemed to emanate a shadow, like the darkly gleaming feathers were still just slightly incorporeal and were being pulled by the little drafts in the air as he moved. In contrast, Aang’s bright orange robes and bare head caught the light from above and created an illusion of a warm glow. The Avatar stood calmly before what was obviously the wrath of the spirit. “Wan Shi Tong himself. I am honored to be in your magnificent presence.” He bowed deeply with practiced ease and a jovial bounce, but something in his voice told Zuko that even he was nervous.

A scuffle sounded from the other pillar, and Professor Zei broke free of Katara’s grip. The excitement could have been mistaken for brazenness as he strode forward with a wide smile. “Hello,” he called to the owl, “I’m Professor Zei, Head of Anthropology at Ba Sing Se University.”

Wan Shi Tong arched his neck and stared at the tiny human. “You should leave the way you came,” he suggested. “Unless you want to become a stuffed Head of Anthropology.” He cast a brief glance at a pillar off to the side, and Zuko could just make out several stuffed heads hanging there. One looked like a baboon, one might have been something like a boar, and one looked vaguely human. He tried not to dwell on it. Zei audibly gulped, rubbing his neck.

Sokka stepped out from behind the pillar before his sister could react. Zuko sighed. The spirit knew they were all there anyway. Katara seemed to come to the same conclusion, and followed her brother, shaking her head just slightly. With a sigh, the Prince followed them, and his uncle brought up the rear. There was no mistaking the brazenness in Sokka’s voice as he approached the giant spirit owl. “Are you the spirit who brought this library to the physical world?”

The owl looked around, amused at the tiny humans who thought they could hide. “Indeed, I am Wan Shi Tong, ‘He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things.’ And you are obviously humans,” he preened, and an edge of warning crept into the reverberation of his voice, “which, by the way, are no longer permitted in my study.” Zuko was right. This was a very dangerous place.

To Zuko’s surprise and confusion, Aang made no attempt to change the spirit’s mind. “What did humans do here?” For just a moment, he thought the Avatar might actually hold some animosity toward humans as a whole. Surely that was just for show, to gain the trust of the spirit, right?

The great owl harrumphed and said, “Humans only bother learning things to get the edge on other humans.” He turned his piercing gaze on Zuko and Iroh. “Like that Firebender who came to this place a few years ago, looking to destroy his enemy. So...” he swung his head down to stare eye-to-eye with Sokka, and his neck grew impossibly, uncomfortably long, “who are you trying to destroy?”

To his credit, Sokka balked from the power in those beady black eyes. “What? No-no-no-no destroying!” He waved his hands in front of his face, and put some distance between himself and the owl. “We’re not into that.”

“Then why have you come here?” Wan Shi Tong pried, still staring motionlessly at the young Water Tribe boy.

“Um,” Sokka started, casting around for a suitable answer, “knowledge for knowledge’s sake?”

There was a momentary pause while Sokka prayed, Aang stared disbelieving, Katara winced, and Zuko carefully tried to read the owl’s face. He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things blinked and growled, “If you’re going to lie to an all-knowing spirit being, you should at least put some effort into it.”

At least they weren’t under immediate attack. Sokka knew like the rest of them that he had to say something. “I’m not lying,” he lied. “I’m here with the Avatar, and he’s the bridge between our worlds.” He pointed toward Aang, who was still standing where Wan Shi Tong had left him, now behind the owl’s giant head. “He’ll vouch for me.”

Zuko half expected Aang to refuse. Instead, the Airbender rubbed the tattoo on his head for a moment, and then met the great spirit’s eyes. “Okay, yeah. I’ll vouch,” he said, and stood straight. With another formal bow, he intoned, “We will not abuse the knowledge in your library, great spirit. You have my word.” To Zuko, it felt like a moment of import. All of their lives now clung to Aang’s word, his reputation among spirits, and their own ability to follow through on his promise. The pang of rebellious resentment in his heart was overshadowed by his well-tested survival instinct.

“Hmm, very well,” the owl reluctantly acquiesced. “I’ll let you peruse my vast collection on one condition.” Well, what could an all-knowing spirit being possibly want from them? The thought was worrisome. “To prove your worth as scholars, you have to contribute some worthwhile knowledge.”

Zei stepped confidently forward, and Zuko scrambled to think of something he might know that the spirit would not. The professor presented a first-edition tome from the University, probably newly-studied topics and freshly-understood facts. Zuko didn’t have anything like that; books weren’t really encouraged in the palace outside his mother’s private collection. He watched Katara present an authentic Waterbending scroll, and Wan Shi Tong complimented the artwork. So maybe it wasn’t just information that he thought was worth collecting. But Zuko didn’t have any artwork either. His uncle might be able to play the tsungi horn, if the owl would provide the instrument. Aang pulled a Fire Nation Wanted poster of himself from the pockets of his robes, and the spirit took it under protest. That was simple, but Zuko realized it was new, not something the Knowledge Seekers would have had time to collect yet. Then Sokka made a fancy knot in the shape of a butterfly, and Wan Shi Tong stood mute and judgemental for a moment before saying “You’re not very bright, are you?” and swiping the small section of rope.

Lastly, those piercing black eyes turned on Zuko and Iroh. “And what could two Firebenders have that could redeem them of the tarnish their predecessor left?” Zuko’s heart fell into his stomach. The rules were different now. He saw Professor Zei’s eyes flash with shock and apprehension, but he couldn’t deal with that right now. He had to think of something that would placate the owl.

After a moment’s thought, Iroh stepped forward and spoke, calmly but with reverence. “Great Spirit of Knowledge, I offer a new Firebending form, one that I invented as a defense against lightning. Though, I do not have any physical record of it.” He held his arms out and his head low, accepting judgement from the spirit. The great black head leaned over the old General, and the sharp tip of the beak approached. Zuko’s breath caught in his throat, but he knew there was nothing to do. Either Wan Shi Tong would accept the intangible knowledge, or not.

The tip of the owl’s beak touched Iroh’s head, at the point between his eyes. And then it drew away. The spirit turned to Zuko and simply stared expectantly. The Prince cast his thoughts around for something he knew that would be sufficient. His childhood? No. War meetings? No. His scar and banishment was old news as well. “Do you know…” he started slowly, “that the Avatar has children?”

He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things clucked his beak. “Yes, the balance of the Spirit World has been repairing itself in recent years.”

“Well…” Zuko’s mind stumbled onto a piece of random knowledge that had seemed inconsequential at the time. “Did you know that he has a granddaughter?” Je Tsun was indeed an odd name. Like Tashi, or Tomei. They were not Water Tribe names, nor Earth Kingdom, and certainly not Fire Nation. And he had heard Aang that night talking with his uncle. He had several children. Je Tsun was one of them. So her daughter, Song, was Aang’s granddaughter.

The Airbender’s face lit up in surprise, and then joy. Wan Shi Tong leaned down over Zuko and placed the tip of his beak against the Prince’s forehead for just a moment before withdrawing. “You do indeed, Avatar. The fate of the Air Nomads remains weak, but it now stretches forward once again.” He stepped back and spread his wide wings. “Enjoy the library.” And with that, he dove over the side of the bridge and disappeared into the deep recesses of the vast library.

Aang spent the next half hour walking beside Zuko through hallways full of ancient, rare, and precious books, asking questions about Je Tsun and Song. The Prince told him everything he could remember, even the bad parts. Song’s scar almost brought the old Airbender to tears, which shocked Zuko. The Avatar was not someone he would ever have expected to cry. It was unsettling, especially in the usually-carefree Airbender.

Katara’s eye was caught by several Water Tribe books, some about Southern Tribe history or Waterbending in general. Sokka pulled down from the shelves anything that looked remotely technical or mechanical, and anything that looked like it might hold information about the Fire Nation. Iroh found a book on Spirit World tea recipes, and read it as he trailed after his nephew and the Avatar. Professor Zei was slowly building a precarious tower of interesting finds in his arms. “This is incredible,” he said to no one, but the Knowledge Seeker beside him looked up with interest. “There have always been mentions of Lionturtles, but no one has ever seen one in recorded history. Where did the mythology come from? How big are they? How did they impact humanity so much to still be a major motif?” The spirit fox pawed gently at his tan desert robes and led him away.

Katara walked up to Aang and Zuko with a book open in her hands. “Hey, Aang, did you know in a past life, you were left handed?”

The old Airbender laughed and said, “Twice.”

Sokka’s soft musings reached them from the end of the aisle. “The darkest day in Fire Nation history…” He was looking at a glass case that held a seared bit of parchment. Zuko was unsettled. He hadn’t ever heard about a ‘darkest day.’ “It’s got a date at the top, but I can’t make out anything else.” He glanced around, and then took out his dagger and began prying open the case.

“Sokka!” admonished Aang sharply. “Look at what you’re doing please.” The boy stopped and looked back with a quizzical furrow on his brow. “That piece of parchment is ancient, and already charred,” the Avatar explained as he stepped forward to place a hand on the boy’s wrist. “If you remove it from the case, it will be damaged beyond repair. Write the date down somewhere else instead.”

Iroh produced paper and charcoal from a pocket. Of course he had brought along something as useless as writing implements. Sokka gladly took them, marked down the date, and started off down the aisle back toward the main corridor. “I want to know what happened to the Fire Nation on their Darkest Day. I remember a sign up here with directions…”

Aang followed, and Katara and Iroh went along. Zuko trailed a little farther behind. What could have happened on the Darkest Day? Was it a military defeat? The archipelago used to be composed of warring tribes of Firebending families, so a defeat wouldn’t be unheard of, but for it to be the Darkest Day in the history of the Nation, it would have been a doozy.

Zuko followed his uncle around a corner, and almost ran into the old Firebender’s broad back. The group had stopped short. An eerily familiar scent that didn’t belong in a library clung to this place. He leaned around to get a look at the Fire Nation wing of the magnificent library. It was the smell of ash.

Sokka sank to his knees before the sight of such devastation. The elegant stone arch stood untouched with the Fire Nation emblem etched above, and beyond was nothing but burned wood, broken bits of what once were the grand bookshelves, and everywhere ashes. There was no heat from the room. This was old destruction. It turned his stomach.

The Prince could think of a few people off hand who would do something like this. The Fire Lord for one. The information would be devastating if it fell into the wrong hands. But the cost - Spirits alive, the cost. Now the great owl was suspicious of Firebenders, and Zuko had no way of knowing the cause of the Darkest Day, or if it could be prevented from happening again. Wiping out history like this… This was monstrous. Brutal. Just the thing his father or one of the high Generals might order. So when Aang said “Firebenders,” under his breath like a curse, he understood. It wasn’t meant for him. It was meant for the ones who used their power for destruction at any cost. And there were a lot of them these days.

Zuko looked past Katara’s uneasy stare to watch Sokka. Of all of them, the Water Tribe boy was the one most focused on his goal. What would he do if he couldn’t take down the Fire Nation? “This is so unfair!” he cried out, his frustration echoing back softly, muffled by the thick layer of ash and dust on everything before him. “Just when I think I’m one step ahead of the Fire Nation, it turns out they eat us here a long time ago.” His shoulders drooped, and his voice took on a despairing undertone. “I need to know what happened on the Darkest Day.”

So did Zuko.

From behind them, a tiny shuffle of fur and a whimper drew their attention. One of the foxy Knowledge Seekers was standing there between the bookshelves. Standing like a human, on its two back legs with its forelegs hanging down by its sides. It cocked its head to the side and whimpered again, then dropped to all fours and poked its nose toward another corridor. It raised one front paw and leaned forward, then stopped and looked back expectantly.

“Sokka,” Aang prodded the boy, “it looks like it wants to help you.”

Sokka stood with his handwritten parchment and stuttered, “Um, sure, I guess I’ll follow you.” The fox gave a cry that sounded half-bark, half-laugh, and dashed forward. Left, right, straight, around the corner, another left, but never slowing. It had a destination in mind. Zuko’s stomach felt tied in knots. What happened on the Darkest Day? Was it something he could afford to share with the Water Tribe siblings? Was it something he could control at all?

The fox stopped before a huge circle on a wall, intricately carved like everything else in the library with beautiful owls, but also with the sun, moon, stars, and other orbs with swirling designs on them that Zuko didn’t recognize. The fox gently placed a paw on one of the circles, and a small door slid open, just big enough for the small fox to slip through. For a moment, Zuko held his breath, hoping this all had been for something, but also that the fox had left them and no one would know the secret. Then, with the sound of grinding stone and a cascade of dust, the huge circle began to move. The whole thing was a door, and rolled smoothly back into the wall. The fox sat in the gloom of the chamber beyond, wagging its tail and smiling with a wide, toothy fox grin.

They stepped reverently into the open dome of space, and the fox bounded forward. The high ceiling and flat, empty floor were unbroken except for a large, round pedestal of some kind, perfectly placed at the center. When everyone was close enough for the fox, it braced its front paws on a lever at the edge of the pedestal and pushed. The mechanism clicked. Zuko didn’t know what he had expected, but it wasn’t this.

All around them, the room was moving. He realized it wasn’t dark for lack of lanterns. There were brightly lit pinpoints in the ceiling that now spun about like floating embers of flame. He watched in awe as a new dome slid in front of the dark one, this time bright blue, and the room lit up like the sun had emerged. It even looked like a mechanical sun on a semi-circle of metal was moving across the sky. And another metal line moving with the moon. With a deep boom and reverberation through the soles of his shoes, everything stopped.

Iroh sounded breathless. “It’s a planetarium.” Zuko looked over to him and saw his uncle transfixed by the moving ceiling. “This room is a mechanical wonder. A planetarium that shows the stars moving…”

“It’s beautiful,” said Sokka, “but how is it helpful?” He glanced back at the fox, who didn’t move from its seat beside the pedestal.

His sister, though, stepped up to look at the stone pedestal more closely. “Look, Sokka. These numbers could be dates and times.” She beckoned. “Try entering that date from the parchment.”

The Prince was almost eager to find out what the fox thought this would tell them. He watched Sokka spin the dials on the wheel, and push the lever. The daytime dome slid back to reveal the nighttime stars, and the room spun before their eyes. Finally, the blue of day returned, the sun and moon moved back into view, but the room went dark just before the deep boom signalled the end of the room’s movement. “What happened to the sun?” he asked aloud to no one in particular.

Sokka mused, and then started to answer. “Look,” he said, pointing to the moon, and Zuko noticed the metal band that held the sun also passed through that point. He could just make out a shadow behind the gray disk. “The sun is behind the moon. It’s a solar eclipse! It’s literally the darkest day in Fire Nation history.”

An eclipse… Why had he never heard about it before? “When is the next one?” How long ago had it been? Celestial things like this were patterns. If it happened once, it would happen again. Sokka turned the dial back to present day, and then moved the dial forward. Could the room predict the future?

Zuko watched in awe as days slipped by above him, the endless cycle of day and night playing out at extreme speeds. Week by week, the moon passed closer and closer to the sun, until finally, the room stopped on a darkened daytime sky once again.

Sokka gleefully shouted, “That’s it! It’s just a few months away!” He was chattering and celebrating, and Zuko knew exactly why. The lunar eclipse at the North Pole had crippled the Waterenders catastrophically. A solar eclipse would likely do the same thing to Firebenders. The entire Nation would be defenseless. Did Sokka want to take out the Fire Lord, or the Fire Nation? How much did the boy hate his people? Enough to take the information to the Earth King and mount an invasion. He was saying too much in his excitement. This wouldn’t stand. Zuko couldn’t let it. His blood boiled, in no small part because he, the Prince of the Fire Nation, had given the Water Tribe boy this piece of vital information.

Before he could move, a booming voice shook the room and stopped everything. “Mortals are so predictable,” it said, “and such terrible liars.” In two heavy steps, Wan Shi Tong slipped through the massive door and spread his wide wings to block their path. “You betrayed my trust,” he accused, staring directly at Aang. “From the beginning, you intended to misuse this knowledge for evil purposes.” The tingling aura that pervaded the building grew in intensity now, and Zuko had to glance at his arms to make sure he wasn’t being bitten by fireants.

Sokka was less brash now, before the wrath of He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things, but he still sounded sure. “You don’t understand,” he explained. “If anyone’s evil, it’s the Fire Nation. You saw what they did to your library.” Zuko would have a chat with him later about that. Or a fistfight. Either way. “They’re destructive and dangerous. We need this information!”

“And yet you travel with them and bring them here?” The veiled rage was like ice in Zuko’s veins. “You think you’re the first person to believe their war was justified?” And Zuko felt like he had been hit in the gut by Gow’s boulders again. He had grown up believing that everything his father did was justified. “Countless others before you have come here seeking weapons or weaknesses or battle strategies.”

As the owl stepped forward, Aang stepped up to meet him, a fierceness on his face that echoed what Zuko felt in the spirit’s voice. “Please, Wan Shi Tong.” He held out a strong arm, palm flat outward. “We are just trying to protect the people we love.” He emphasized ‘protect’ to try to divert the spirit’s rage even a little.

The great owl dropped his head and spoke with an icy calm determination. “And now I’m going to protect what I love,” he said. He flapped his wings, and the walls shook. He did it again and everything shuddered. He did it again and sand began pouring through cracks in the stone walls.

Aang was knocked off balance. “What are you doing?” he cried out.

Wan Shi Tong kept flapping, and everything felt like it was moving. “I’m taking my knowledge back.” He punctuated each set of syllables with another powerful flap. “No one will ever abuse it again.”

Katara pulled herself out of a sand cascade and called “He’s sinking the building! We’ve gotta get out of here!”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” purred the owl, raising his head impossibly high on a long neck that hadn’t been there before. “You already know too much.”

Iroh grabbed Zuko by the collar and yanked him out of the way of the flashing beak just in time. Wan Shi Tong’s extended neck put the rest of the group closer to the door than to the dangerous head, and they bolted. Did they remember the direction they had come? Right, around the corner, straight, left, right, or had that last one been a left? They could hear Wan Shi Tong crashing through bookshelves behind them. No time to stop.

Finally, they found one of the big atriums. They dashed out onto the bridge, and bet Zei coming from the other direction. “The library is sinking!”

Zuko grabbed the man by the arm and spun him around. “We know! The owl is sinking it into the desert!”

“But there’s so much to learn here! Did you know humans used to live on the backs of Lionturtles?” The professor clung to an old book with a cracking leather cover like it was the most precious thing in the world.

The owl burst through the last stack of shelves and into the atrium with them. Zei turned back, pulling his arm from Zuko’s grip. “Great Knowledge Spirit, I beg you! Do not destroy your vast collection of priceless tomes!” The great avian head reared back to strike.

With a burst of wind, Aang leapt over Zuko, Iroh, and Zei to land between them and He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things. He blasted air both forward and back, blowing Zei farther across the bridge while catching the owl beneath his wings and tossing him over the side. It wouldn’t buy them much time, but anything was helpful. “Let’s go! Move!” The carefree Airbender was gone, and the commanding Avatar was back. Zuko obeyed. So did everyone else.

A shattering crash echoed through the atrium behind them, and an ethereal shriek told them the owl was hot on their heels again. Running bunched up in a straight hallway, they were too slow, and an easy target. “We have to split up,” he called forward to Aang and the others. “It’s hunting us, we need to think like prey.”

Aang looked over his shoulder at the young Firebender, and nodded. He ducked down a side aisle with Zei, directed Katara and Sokka down another, and sent Zuko and Iroh off in a third direction. The sounds of their footsteps diverged, and soon Zuko couldn’t hear anything but their two sets of footsteps and the distant crashing of Wan Shi Tong following one of the other groups. Iroh held out an arm to slow his nephew. “We need to find our way out.”

Zuko looked down the aisle and found one of the Knowledge Seekers. “Hey,” he hissed, trying to be quiet enough to remain unnoticed by the owl. “Hey, do you know the way out of here?” The fox locked eyes with him, shook its head, and turned and ran the other way. The Prince sighed.

His uncle placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “There is only one place air could come from or go, one way in or out.” He summoned a tightly-controlled flicker of fire in his palm. “If we are very careful, the flame will bend toward the source of air, and we can follow it out.”

Zuko was skeptical. “Have you done this before?”

“Not precisely, but something similar.”

“And did it work?”

Iroh’s face said no, but he smiled and said “It led me to the source of the air. In that case, though, it was not an exit.” He leaned over his little flame, and they both tried not to breathe. They watched the tip flicker up and down like a candle in a closed room, always to one side, never the other. Iroh sighed and closed his hand. “It’s that way.”

They crept through aisles and aisles of bookshelves, as quickly as they could. Every step reminded them that the entire building was trying to tear itself apart and swallow them whole. The chasing and screeches of Wan Shi Tong grew closer as they approached the first bit of daylight Zuko had seen since they entered the library. It felt like it had been days, but it had probably only been a few hours.

They found the balcony edge overlooking the atrium just in time to see Katara facing off with the towering owl, and her brother throw a book like a boomerang from behind her. The great Knowledge Spirit crumpled unconscious to the ground, and Zuko heard Sokka say, “Yes! That’s Sokka style. Learn it.”

Aang emerged at a full sprint from another aisle, but stopped amazed when he saw the unconscious spirit. Iroh mumbled to Zuko, “I didn’t even know spirits could be knocked unconscious.” They ran forward, stepping carefully around the owl’s prone form, avoiding the wispy, ethereal spirit feathers, and one by one they took hold of the rope. The building was still shuddering at ever-increasing intervals. They couldn’t have very much time left. The Avatar looked back down the aisle and called, “Professor! Let’s go!”

Zuko followed the Airbender’s gaze, and saw Professor Zei, seated in the aisle, surrounded by stacks of books. He had unrolled a long scroll that was stretched out on the floor around his feet. Falling pillars of sand were beginning to leave mounds against the shelves nearby, but his face was calm and content. “I’m not leaving. I can’t.” He set the parchment gently in his lap and gestured around. “I’ve spent too long trying to find this place.” He laid his hand gently on the stack of books closest to him, like a mother. “There’s not another collection of knowledge like this on earth.” His eyes shut and he breathed wistfully, “I could spend an eternity in here.”

And he probably would. The library would be gone soon. Zuko doubted they had the time to argue with him. To be honest, he was surprised they had lasted this long. He heard Katara shout, “Just go!” at her brother. So he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

They climbed. Sokka in the lead, Iroh bringing up the rear, Aang gliding in tight circles around them, ready to catch them if they fell. Suddenly, a familiar and blood-curdling screech filled the chamber, and Zuko glanced down at the face of Wan Shi Tong. The owl’s fury was palpable. The massive beak latched onto the bottom of the rope and shook, sending all of them sailing first one way, then the other. Sokka and Katara were close enough to the top that they scrambled the last few feet up to the windowsill and launched themselves out. Zuko fought to gain height, and with each inch the rope moved less, tethered to the stone window like an anchor. But Iroh was bigger, and heavier than Zuko, and had been farther from the safety of the ledge. With a mighty heave from the owl, the old Firebender was thrown from the rope, out into open air.

Aang dove like a hawk. His fragile glider didn’t look up to the task, and Zuko held his breath. An outstretched arm and a tattooed hand grasped his uncle’s forearm, and together, the two old Masters rose. Aang guided them clear of the snapping beak of the owl and upward, into the spire and finally out past Zuko into the scorching heat of the empty desert.

The young Firebender watched them land safely on the sand that was now so much closer than when they had passed through here before, and grabbed Sokka’s boomerang before jumping down to the burning sand. He spotted Toph, braced on a platform of rock, struggling to support the spire, but a moment later she was thrown back as the entire building sank beneath the dunes in a shower of sand.

Sokka wrapped his sister in a joyous hug. Iroh came to help Zuko to his feet. Aang walked over to thank Toph for keeping the library above ground as long as she did, but he paused. Toph was sitting on the sand dune with her hands over her ears, crying. Aang knelt in front of her, growing serious again. “Where’s Nini?”

All Toph could do was shake her head.


	31. The Desert

For a brief moment, Zuko thought Aang was going to go into the Avatar State. The air was unsettled. The energy was overpowering. The familiar feeling of being an ant before a typhoon overwhelmed him. But instead of glowing, Aang sank to his knees, and all indications of power faded from him. His tired shoulders fell, his back hunched in despair, his hands fell, motionless and weak, to the sand. His glider slipped from his grasp and landed behind him, unnoticed. The air became as still as a moonless night.

Then, like a stroke of inspiration, Aang sat straight, tucked his legs under him, and went completely motionless. Zuko walked toward him and Toph, toward where the spire of the library had once stood. The blind Earthbender kept shaking her head. No, not shaking anymore, carefully turning, side to side, listening. Iroh approached and knelt beside her, and her head tilted at the sound of his clothes. “I can’t see here,” she said, and didn’t shy away from his comforting hand. “The sand makes everything so shifty. I couldn’t stop them…”

Iroh let her lean on him. “I know you did everything you could,” he said. “Sometimes we try our very hardest, and still fail. That is not weakness, it is life.” Toph’s hunched shoulders lifted just a little. “Destiny is not always kind to its subjects. All we can do is keep moving, and trust that what must happen will happen.”

There was Destiny again. Zuko watched his uncle help Toph to her feet, and wondered. Was this lesson meant for her, for Aang, for Nini herself? Or was it for someone else entirely? Or was it for all of them? They would have to make it out of the desert to find out, and that would be significantly more difficult now, without Nini to fly them, or even Zei to guide them. What was Aang doing?

The Airbender sat oblivious to everything, hands splayed in the shifting sands in front of him, barely even breathing from what Zuko could tell. The man’s eyes moved under their lids, flicking back and forth like he was searching through the splotches of color in his closed eyes for something particular.

Zuko hadn’t forgotten the chat he wanted to have with Sokka, but their survival came first. “Uncle,” he started, careful not to disturb Aang, “what should we do?” The desert would eat them alive if they did nothing, and it would probably eat them alive anyway. The old Firebender was their best chance at having some experience to fall back on, some past knowledge that might help.

Iroh rubbed his chin and mused, “We came from the oasis to the South, but I am not sure how far through the desert we are now, and if it might be better to go North. Then there’s the problem of provisions to consider.” He nodded at Zuko as Katara and Sokka came closer, flocking to the voice of reason and wisdom when their usual mentor was unavailable. “You did well to insist we all carried water, but the bulk of our stores were still with Nini -”

“AAAARGHH!” They all flinched back from the anguished shout and tornado of sand that sprang into existence and died away just as quickly. Aang still sat with his legs tucked in, but his eyes were open and furious. “Sandbenders.” The word sliced through the air like a finely-sharpened dagger in an assassin’s deft hand.

Zuko brushed sand from his clothes and shook out his hair. “Did you find them? Or a way out of the desert?”

“No.”

The Avatar stood, strapped his glider to his back, and started walking. At Iroh’s insistence, the kids grabbed their bags, the meager packs they had taken into the library and the few pouches of water they had been able to carry comfortably. Zuko wished now that he had decided to carry enough to be uncomfortable. The sun was already burning the exposed skin on his neck, ears, and hands. He had left his straw hat with Nini. Just another thing to wish for.

In less than an hour, they had stopped. The glimmering waves of heat all around them made it difficult to see which direction they were going. They could be walking in circles for all anyone knew. The sun beat down on them, and all of their necks and shoulders were as red as chili peppers, and stung as bad. Zuko hadn’t seen hide nor hair of an animal yet. No tracks, no scat, no shelter. There would be no food to find.

Sokka stopped and stared at the horizon for a few seconds. “Do you think if we dig out the giant owl, he’ll give us a ride?” Toph walked into his back, knocking them both to the sand. “Hey! Can’t you watch where you’re - oh…”

“No,” she replied with no patience and an excess of snark.

The Water Tribe boy rubbed his neck, and then winced at the sunburn. “Right. Sorry.”

Zuko had a flash of inspiration. “Hold on, guys.” He set his pack down and pulled everything out of it. His jerky, the bison whistle that Aang still hadn’t asked him to return, his Blue Spirit mask. The Water Tribe siblings shot him a look at the whistle, and his uncle did at the mask. But once the pack was empty, he took his pearl dagger from his waistband and cut it into large squares. The straps he cut down, too, handing everyone a square and a strap. “Tie this to your head,” he instructed. “Let the fabric fall over your neck and shoulders, like this.” He tied up his own set as an example. “All the Sandbenders have their skin covered, and Zei had a flap like this under his hat.”

Zuko helped Toph with the sunshade while the others tied up their own, and then gathered his things from the sand. The bison whistle went back in his shirt pocket, pressed into his chest by the heavy strap of a waterskin. He found enough room in the pocket for a few pieces of jerky as well, and stashed the rest in his uncle’s bags, but the mask was too bulky. For that, he used its own straps to tie it around his neck, hanging off his shoulders under the sunshade so it would be protected, too.

Everyone took long swigs of water before they started moving again. Zuko had to force himself to stop before he downed the whole thing and made himself sick. Katara must have had a similar realization. “We’ve got to try to conserve our water,” she said. It’s all we have, and it’s not going to last long if we don’t take care of it.”

Iroh was nodding his approval, but Sokka pointed off to the side and exclaimed “Maybe not! Look!” He dashed down the side of the dune toward a sturdy-looking cactus - the first plant Zuko had seen out here. When he got close enough, he took his short sword and slashed off one of the bulbous offshoots. “There’s water trapped inside these!”

Katara called after him, “Sokka wait! I don’t think we should be eating strange plants!” but her brother had already held the natural bowl to his mouth and was climbing the dune with the rest.

Zuko thought it was a great idea. Water was water, and he knew the importance of that. If this plant wanted to hoard it, it was easy enough to retrieve it. He met Sokka at the top of the dune, and when the boy held out the bowl to him, he took it. The liquid didn’t taste like water, but it wasn’t bad. Slightly bitter but very sweet, almost syrupy. Sokka held it out to Katara next, who pulled away. “I don’t know…”

“Suit yourself. It’s very thirst quenching though,” said Sokka with a shrug. He looked like he was positively glowing with vitality, holding out the cactus bowl like a fine goblet. “Drink cactus juice. It’ll quench ya!” He held out the golden goblet to his sister and Zuko laughed uproariously. “Nothin’s quenchier. It’s the quenchiest!”

~+~+~+~+~+~

Zuko’s laughter was what got Aang’s attention. He hadn’t ever heard the boy laugh, and definitely not like that. He felt a faint smile threaten to overcome his focus. Sokka was dancing a waltz he had seen in the Northern Water Tribe, poorly but not bad for a first attempt, and Zuko of all people was cartwheeling around him to the beat. Katara dumped the rest of the cactus juice into the sand.

They had to get out of the desert, they had to find the Sandbenders who took Nini. That’s what was important. The trail of disturbed sand had led this way, evidence of their passage. The Avatar watched Iroh gather the kids and move them forward, so he turned and continued onward himself. Sokka’s voice found him, “Who lit Toph on fire?”

Zuko replied with glee “It was meee!” and giggled. There was no malice in it. He really had a good heart, buried under that upbringing. He would make a good Fire Lord, if he could dig himself out.

Aang closed his eyes and tried again to feel the vibrations in the sand. Toph was absolutely right about the shifting, blurry quality of it. Every individual grain was clear, but the image they conjured was constantly moving, never still long enough to resolve into something recognizable. All he could tell was that there was an inconsistency in the natural pattern, and that the trail led this way.

He would find Nini. And if they had hurt her, or scared her, or made her uncomfortable, no force on this earth would protect them. He had made a promise to Appa. That his children would be safe. That he could rest easy knowing Aang was watching out for them. That had been the last thing his Spirit Guide had known in this world. He would not allow it to be a lie. He gritted his teeth and took another shifting step.

That was it. One more step. Maybe with one more step he could hear them, or see them, or sense them. Always moving forward. Even in the darkest times, he had kept moving forward. Even as he found less and less evidence of other Airbenders, more and more evidence of death and destruction, he had kept moving forward. There was no other option. He drank some water, wiped his brow, and took another step.

Zuko was singing now. “Lady of Fire, dance! Float like dragons in the sky! Lady of Fire, twirl! Fight like dragons in their lair! Lady of Fire, strike! Bite like dragons on the hunt!”

Sokka was in awe. “That’s so good! Is that about your girlfriend?”

“Nah, it’s just a nursery rhyme.” He stumbled forward under his uncle’s gentle guidance, and Katara sighed audibly.

The sun was setting. Aang was thankful for the shade. The oppressive heat would fade soon, too. They would all be a little more comfortable. He drank some water. He listened to the shifting sand. They were still on the right path.

Iroh called from the back of the group. “Avatar Aang, we should stop for a moment.” Aang turned around to judge the man’s face and tone better. “They are tired,” he said, motioning to the kids. Toph was swaying on her feet, Katara’s eyes had dark circles of stress and exhaustion under them, and Sokka and Zuko had laid down in the sand the moment they had stopped walking, and were chattering about the pictures they could see in the stars. Yes, they were tired.

“Let’s rest here for a few hours,” he said, and his voice was dry and harsh, partly from the desert sapping all his water, and partly the deep-seated anger that would have kept him walking night and day until he overtook Nini’s captors. “We will get moving again soon.”

Iroh nodded in a semi-formal bow, and gathered the kids around him to organize where they slept. Aang was glad of his help. The old General hadn’t known Aang long, but the Airbender had known him. He had seen him, as a young Captain in the Fire Nation Royal Navy. Back then, if anyone had told Aang that the fearsome Firebender would one day be an ally and friend against the Fire Nation Throne, he would have laughed and changed roads, a nomad never to be seen again.

He had been shocked to say the least when Iroh had played the first Pai Sho piece at the Southern Air Temple. The white lotus tile. The secret organization that transcended national borders for the good of humankind as a whole, and had for the eras of Roku, Kyoshi, and Kuruk. Yangchen had never mentioned an organization like it, and Szeto had laughed in Aang’s spiritual face at the very thought. The warring tribes, brought together by a secret organization? Preposterous. His words.

But still, he’d had a lot of help from the Order of the White Lotus through the years. Sneaking him into and then back out of major cities, getting him past the warfront, providing medical care when he needed it. The secret society definitely had a place in history, and a job to do for Destiny. The proof of that was sitting in the sand, twenty feet from Aang right now.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Some nights he just didn’t, but tonight he couldn’t stomach the thought. Not with young Nini captured. But he had to do something. He tucked his feet into a lotus position and touched his fists together. Maybe he could meditate deep enough to feel her energy and know if she was okay at least. He took the steadying breaths he had been taught so long ago, feeling the familiar detachment, like everything that made up the core of his being was floating free of his body, his feelings, his senses. Everything was void, peace, nothingness. He could bring his thoughts here, but nothing else. Nothing else was under his control.

He focused his thoughts on Nini, but the Universe didn’t know her name, only her being. Aang broadened his idea. Sky Bison. Flying with Airbending through mountains and clouds, seeing the herd waiting, the young ones cavorting on the ground under the trees. Sky Bison. Find me a Sky Bison. Preferably one close by, that would be Nini.

The black void blossomed with light. He had connected with the energy of a Sky Bison. This one was flying over a river, a bridge, a tall tower. It was not Nini. It WAS the Eastern Air Temple, which meant it was Nini’s family. Aang let himself be happy that they were still safe and undiscovered. He recognized Rin and Saka snacking on the fruit trees in the valley. Nini’s siblings. He made a mental promise to them, that their sister would be found.

A touch on his shoulder brought him back to himself. Iroh spoke gently, “Aang, the night is deep, and everyone has rested a little.” The Airbender nodded, and found that his knees hurt terribly. He drank what was left of his first waterskin. There were only two more.

Sokka sang a sea shanty as they walked, though Aang noticed that the raunchier parts had been changed, and he left out the final verse entirely. The boy had been too young to learn the proper version before all the sailors had left the South Pole. But Zuko was bouncing along happily beside him, humming along, so Aang left them to their innocence. The rest of the group was mercifully silent.

He wasn’t sure how long they walked. It could have been hours. The dunes all looked the same. The smell of heat still lingered in the air, even as the temperature dropped dramatically. A pair of buzzardwasps buzzed in lazy circles above the group, scavengers waiting for what they thought might be a meal.

“Ow! Shit!” Toph’s cry sounded exponentially louder in the dead quiet. She sat and massaged the toes of her left foot. “I am so fucking sick of not feeling where I’m going!” Aang turned back. Toph had hit something hollow. The vibrations in the sand had rung like a bell. “And what idiot buried a boat in the middle of the desert?”

The others were as enthusiastic as Aang thought he might be under different circumstances. Iroh helped the Earthbender up, clarifying, “A boat?”

“Believe me,” said Toph with more of her usual sarcasm. “I kicked it hard enough to feel plenty of vibrations.” Aang believed that. He had felt the echoes from here.

The boys danced around each other, hand in hand, chanting “A boat, a boat, a boat!”

Katara rubbed at a piece of a wood pontoon protruding from the sand. Aang stepped forward and took hold of his glider. With a look to her, he nodded, and she backed away far enough for him to work. Two sweeps with the bowstaff sent powerful winds in both directions around the craft, and down far enough to clear the sand from all around it. When the manmade sandstorm settled, the group stood on the edge of a shallow valley, with an intact sand sailer resting at the bottom.

“A boat, a boat, a boat!”

Katara slid carefully into the crater and examined the craft. “Look! It’s got some kind of compass on it.” She climbed up onto the short deck and tapped the glass covering the compass near the middle. “I bet it can point us out of here!”

Aang leapt lightly to the deck beside her. “I can bend a breeze so we can sail it.” He tried to keep his voice neutral, but his eagerness to move even marginally faster was beginning to make him fidget. Nini was waiting. He was on his way.

~+~+~+~+~+~

Zuko laid back in the grass beside his new friend, watching the stars dance around in the sky. The wind brought scents of sweetrolls and cooked pheasantchicken. The boy beside him swirled and was Mai. He was happy she was okay. He didn’t remember the last time he’d seen her. She spun in a circle like a ballerina and her dress changed from crimson to deep garnet.

Ursa picked Zuko up in her arms and set him gently on the edge of the pond, with his feet dangling in the water. The stars came down and danced with her, and his uncle danced right back. He said, “Zuko, we’re moving again. Stay here.”

Zuko grinned at Master Piandao and replied, “Your sword is so shiny today!” The blade hung off the swordmaster’s belt as if it had a proper scabbard, but the blade was bare, and the stars danced around it like white, flickering flames, or lotus petals. Zuko was surrounded by lotus petals, and he laid back on a soft bed of them, watching the stars dance.

“A rock?! Yes! Let’s go!”

“Maybe we can find some water there.” But there was plenty of water in the lotus tiles. They could all play a game of Pai Sho.

“Maybe we can find some Sandbenders.” That was Aang. Aang could play a game of Pai Sho with him. Maybe Mom could make tea. Uncle would like some tea.

The wind in his hair stopped. He heard Toph shout, “Ahh… Finally! Solid ground!” His bed of Pai Sho tiles was uncomfortable. He sat up and saw a giant stone monolith where the palace gardens had been. Master Piandao stood up from the pile of Pai Sho tables and walked with Toph and Aang toward the rock. Uncle Iroh came and helped Zuko up, and they went with the others, too.

The sky was starting to change colors, and the stars were going to sleep, slowly giving way to dawn. For a while, they climbed the outside of the rock, until they found the entrances to deep caves. Where were they? Zuko’s head felt fuzzy, and his tongue felt thick. His old swordmaster was walking ahead of him, but that wasn’t right. He hadn’t seen Master Piandao for years. It was Sokka, saying, “I think my head is starting to clear out the cactus juice. And look!” Sokka scooped up some yellow goo of the wall of the cave and stuck it straight in his mouth. Zuko retched, but managed not to throw up. That wouldn’t be very Princely of him. His uncle’s steady hand rested on his back. It was a comfort.

Katara’s harsh voice cut through the cave, and the last of the fog in Zuko’s mind. “You’ve been hallucinating on cactus juice all day and then you just lick something you find stuck to the wall of a cave?!”

Sokka just shrugged. “I have a natural curiosity.” The cactus juice. That was it. Zuko held his pounding head in one hand and swore never to eat anything from a plant he didn’t recognize again. The ringing in his ears was pulsing with the pain in his head, making it worse by the second. Never again. He leaned on his uncle’s arm for support.

Toph mused, “I don’t think this is a normal cave. This was carved by something.” She squatted in the cave and rubbed the floor, tracing ridges with her hand.

“Yeah…” agreed Aang, cautiously. “Look at the shape.” Zuko looked up, noticing the rounded hexagon sides and the nearly straight path. “It’s like a sponge all the way down.”

Then, urgently, Toph stood. “There’s something buzzing in here. Something that’s coming for us!”

The buzz in Zuko’s ears got louer, and more distinct. This wasn’t the normal ringing. The buzz was approaching, and quickly. Aang faced them and started running back toward the light of dawn, and the rest of them ran to stay in front of him. The buzzing filled every silence, and everything shook. Even Zuko’s teeth felt like they were vibrating to that buzz.

They reached the tunnel’s entrance just in time to dive to the side before a swarm of buzzardwasps came pouring out. Aang blasted air at one that got too close to him, sending it up into the open dawn sky, where Zuko now saw dozens and dozens, hundreds of buzzardwasps, emerging from every little tunnel in the giant hive rock. 

One made the mistake of landing near them, and Toph spun her foot in the dust, sending a rock shooting up from the surface of the stone under the insect’s feet. It flew into the air and fell out of sight behind the main hive. Another buzzed between Toph and Sokka, and Toph lifted a rock and threw it with a forceful punch toward the sound.

She missed the buzzardwasp, but nearly hit Sokka. “What are you doing?” he yelled, and his voice cracked. “That rock almost crushed me!”

Toph winced. “Sorry, I can’t tell where they are in the air!”

Katara moved behind Toph and set her hands on the younger girl’s shoulers. “I’m all out of water to end,” she explained, “I’ll guide you. We need to go down!” she called to the rest of them, and Toph began the descent down the same treacherous ramp Zuko had somehow navigated while hallucinating. “Toph, shoot a rock right there,” she said, turning the Earthbender by the shoulders. “Fire!”

Toph stomped and punched, and her boulder struck the buzzardwasp square in the chest, sending it squealing back. Sokka cheered, “Yeah! You got it!” and then questioned himself and asked Katara, “She got it, right?”

“Yes,” replied Katara with pride. “Now let’s move.” She guided Toph, Aang blasted dozens of wasps out of the way, and Zuko and Iroh covered their escape with well-aimed fire blasts.

They made it to the sands that way. Toph was reluctant to go far from the rock where she could bend, but that left them all vulnerable, trapped against the wall with nowhere to go. Zuko blasted the bugs from the sky, but there were so many of them. Only Aang stood a chance at killing them all, and he wouldn’t. He had only used Airbending to push them away so far. They were surrounded. He would have to make a choice.

Without warning, column after massive column of sand rose in a wall around them. The buzzardwasps caught in it, from what Zuko could tell, never made it out. The rest turned tail and returned to the hive. The sand wall fell, revealing their saviors, dressed in tan robes and riding sand sailers.

Aang set his feet in a steady horse-stance, somewhere between the wide Earthbending and the narrow Waterbending stance. His eyes were unforgiving.

The leader in the center sailer stepped off the deck and stood to the front. “What are you doing in our land with a sandbender sailer?” he demanded. “From the looks of it, you stole it from the Hami tribe.”

Stole it? If his head wasn’t still throbbing, Zuko might have stepped forward to meet the Sandbender. Instead, Katara held out a placating hand and explained, “We found the sailer abandoned in the desert. We’re travelling with the Avatar.” She gestured at Aang, who still stood staring at the tan congregation. “Our bison was stolen, and we have to get out of the desert so we can find her.”

The leader’s eyes had gone wide, and he looked carefully over Aang’s orange robes, carved necklace, and bright blue tattoos. The younger figure to his right stepped up in the silence, and jabbed a finger at Katara. “How dare you accuse our people of theft while you ride in on a stolen sand sailer?”

“Quiet, Ghashiun,” interrupted the leader sharply. “No one accused our people of anything. If what they say is true, we must give them hospitality.”

The younger man backed off with a “Sorry, father.” But Zuko was sure the young Sandbender was still in a fighting mood. He kept his weight even between both his feet. The others were all leaning.

Toph surprised him by whispering forward to Aang, “I recognize the son’s voice. He’s the one that stole Nini.”

Aang turned his head just enough to be absolutely certain he heard Toph, and kept his eyes glued on the Sandbenders. “Are you sure?”

“I never forget a voice,” the girl insisted.

The Avatar nodded. He stood straight and pointed the tip of his bowstaff directly at Ghashiun’s chest. “You,” he growled, and he let the word trail on and echo menacingly at the end. “What. Did you do. With my Sky Bison?”

Ghashiun balked. “What? I- I don’t have your bison!” He waved his hands in front of him, unconvincingly. “You’re the thieves!”

With a roar and a slash of the bowstaff, Aang sent a tall arc of air slicing down toward the sand sailer on the edge of the group. It shattered into splinters as Sandbenders dove clear of the carnage just in time. Now, Aang’s voice was calm, steady, and utterly terrifying. “Where is my bison?” His eyes narrowed. “You tell me WHERE HE IS, NOW!!”

Another swipe sent a second sand sailer into oblivion, and now several of the other Sandbenders were looking fearfully to their leader. The man turned to his son in dismay. “What did you do?”

Desperate, Ghashiun cried, “I- it wasn’t me!”

Over the confusion, Toph shouted at him, her own anger at her inability to help finally finding a target. “You said to put a muzzle on her!”

“You muzzled Nini?!” That was the last straw. Zuko knew it before Aang’s tattoos glowed. But glow they did, and fearsome was his wrath. He pointed at the last two sand sailers, and they exploded into splinters under the pinpoint tornado he summoned. Several of the Sandbenders started running. Zuko thought that wasn’t a half bad idea.

Ghashiun cowered as Aang rose into the air, surrounded by bits of sand picked up in the gale. “I’m sorry!” he cried. “I didn’t know that it belonged to the Avatar!”

“TELL ME WHERE NINI IS!” The voice was one Zuko had heard before, but it was not Aang’s. It reverberated too loudly in the open desert, amplified both by the Airbending trick Aang used sometimes, and the multitude of voices expressing their utter rage.

Ghashiun was the only person who could answer. His voice trembled. “I traded her! To some merchants! She’s probably in Ba Sing Se by now! They were going to sell her there!” He fell to his knees under a hail of sand and splintered bits of sand sailers. “Please! We’ll escort you out of the desert! We’ll help however we can!” he pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. Aang slowly rose higher, now almost feet above the heads of those around him.

Sokka dashed toward the Sandbender, away from Aang. “Just get out of here!” he cried to anyone who was left. “Run!” Katara took Toph by the arm and followed at a sprint.

Zuko looked to his uncle. Was this the right thing to do? Should they leave Aang to wreak death and havoc upon the buzzardwasp nest, while the Sandbenders fled to safety? He couldn’t think of a way to stop it. Aang was a force of nature when provoked like this. There was no stopping him. This was how the Yuyan Fortress had been wiped off the map, for good.

Iroh looked at his nephew, and gave a solemn nod. He had a plan. Whatever it was, Zuko hoped it was good. He set his face and nodded back, then turned and ran. He had to trust that his uncle knew what he was doing. There wasn’t another option.

When he felt like he was far enough away, Zuko turned back. His uncle had pushed through the gale surrounding Aang, and had grabbed him by the ankle. Everything was still. The tornado wasn’t growing, but it also wasn’t shrinking yet. He was too far away to see what the old Firebender was saying. Spirits, please, let this work.

The wind whipping at Zuko’s makeshift hat began to subside. Sand and bits of wood fell in a steady rain as the furious tornado lost some momentum. Slowly, the Airbender sank closer to the ground, and Iroh took him by the wrist, and then by the shoulders. Zuko recognized that hug, even from this distance. It was his uncle’s specialty.


	32. Full Moon Bay

After the strain of the deep desert, no one had been upset when they stopped to make camp near a waterfall and pond. As promised, the Sandbenders had done everything asked of them: brought them a sand sailer, pointed the way to the nearest town, given them food for the trip, and then stayed well away and out of sight. Aang hadn’t so much as looked at anyone in a tan robe. Iroh had been the one to arrange their passage.

Upon seeing the waterfall, Zuko had tossed aside his reconstructed pack and jumped, fully clothed, into the water. His peeling skin and sun blisters stung at the cold touch of the mid-Spring temperatures, but the weightless, carefree moment was a balm for his stressed mind. He took a deep breath of the humid air and sighed.

Toph sat on a rock at the edge with her feet swinging in the shallows. Sokka was sorting through the bag of books and maps he had stashed before their mad dash from Wan Shi Tong and his library. Iroh had gathered a small pile of firewood from the plentiful branches and leaves in the area, and had just flicked his fingers to spark a flame in the middle.

Aang was floating inside a block of ice he had created around himself, whistling a sweet, simple melody that seemed to lift the mood of the entire area. Through the clear ice, Zuko could still see the network of scars small and large across the old man’s torso. The newest ones, the red splotches on each shoulder from the arrows of the Yuyan Archers, were a stark reminder that the old Airbender had barely made a sound when he touched open flames to his own flesh. Zuko absently rubbed the splotch on his own shoulder, remembering the blinding pain, and the faraway look in Aang’s eyes when he had caused it. He took another breath and let the unfamiliar song soothe him.

From high above, he heard Katara’s soft voice call, “Waterbending bomb!” Zuko looked up to see her jumping from the ledge above the waterfall. With the lithe movements of a Waterbender, she flipped in the air and tucked into a ball. She hit the surface of the pond, sending an unnaturally tall cascade of water splashing in every direction. The resulting wave pushed both Aang and Zuko out onto the shore, snuffed out Iroh’s tea fire, and soaked both Sokka and the map he had found and unfurled on the rocks.

“Sure,” the boy scowled and held out the sopping piece of parchment, “five-thousand-year-old maps from the spirit library. Just splash some water on ‘em.”

Katara stood and wrung the water from her hair. “Sorry,” she said with a sheepish grin. She held out her arms and moved them in a series of smooth waves, drawing the water gently out of the fibers of the paper without damaging it or the ink on it.

Now that he was out of the pond, Zuko’s soaked shirt caught the breeze and felt cool against his sunburns, so he left it on while it dried. “So,” he said to Sokka, who had laid out the map again, “did you figure out what route we’re going to take?”

The Water Tribe boy nodded and pointed to specific features on the map. “Okay, we just got out of the desert, so we must be around here.” His finger traced a line from a large tan area into greenery and stopped near a body of water that was vaguely shaped like this waterfall area. It was an old map; it wasn’t perfect. “And we need to go to Ba Sing Se, which is here,” the finger slid up and to the East, stopping on a huge, roughly circular mark that had to indicate the city’s famous walls. “It looks like the only passage connecting the South to the North is this sliver of land called the Serpent’s Pass.”

Toph didn't bother looking at the map she wouldn’t be able to read. “You sure that’s the best way to go?”

“It’s the only way,” Sokka stated with certainty. “I mean, it’s not like we have Nini to fly us there.”

Zuko froze, expecting a wild reaction from Aang. Katara scolded her brother in a hoarse whisper, “Shush up about Nini! Can’t you at least try to be sensitive?” The Prince’s eyes darted back and forth between Sokka’s nervous recoil, Iroh’s watchful readiness to step in, and Aang’s stillness.

Then, Aang took a steady breath and said, “Katara, it’s okay.” His voice was absolutely stagnant with forced calm, and it made Zuko jittery. “I was very upset before, and I put you in harm's way. It won’t happen again.” He stared blankly off into the East. “We should focus on getting to Ba Sing Se. Then you guys can do what you want about the eclipse and the War.”

Katara furrowed her brow and said, “Oh, well, okay…” With a deep breath and a smile, she was able to continue in a happier tone. “I’m glad you’re doing better.”

“Then, to Ba Sing Se we go,” Sokka cheered, rolling up the map. “No more distractions.”

“Hello, there, fellow refugees!” The voice came from the edge of the clearing, where the road passed close enough to hear the waterfall. The same place they had split from the path to take a break and chill in the water. With a start, Zuko realized he recognized the man and woman at the front of the small group. He had almost stolen a slab of meat from them when he had travelled through the desert alone. The woman had been very pregnant then, and now looked almost fit to burst. The baby had to be due any day now.

Aang seemed to perk up a bit at the unexpected guests. “Oh, you guys are headed to Ba Sing Se, too?” He smiled warmly at them, but Zuko could still feel the cold core of the man’s emotions. He hid it well, but it snuck out in little ways, like the too-tight squint in his eyes when he smiled or the way he held his elbows tucked close to his sides.

The father-to-be grinned back with genuine warmth. “Sure are! We’re trying to get there before my wife, Ying, has her baby.” He cast an adoring look at Ying and they both rubbed the baby bump. Zuko looked away. That kind of happiness was a private thing, even if it was in a public place. And he had a sneaking suspicion that it would never be meant for him.

Katara didn’t have the same decorum. “Great!” she exclaimed. “We can travel through the Serpent’s Pass together!”

The faces of the refugees turned fearful, and all eyes locked on Katara. Ying clutched her belly as if to protect her baby from the very idea. “The Serpent’s Pass? Only the truly desperate take that deadly route.”

“Deadly route,” Toph repeated, and punched Sokka in the shoulder. “Great pick, dumbass.”

The Water Tribe boy leaned away and rubbed his arm. “Well, we are desperate,” he responded to the group of refugees, holding out his hand as if to welcome any other option.

As luck would have it, the father-to-be brightened and offered, “You should come with us to Full Moon Bay. Ferries take refugees across the lake.” He smiled at his wife. “It’s the fastest way to Ba Sing Se.”

“And it’s hidden,” added Ying, beaming up at her husband, “so the Fire Nation can’t find it.”

Zuko couldn’t resist piling on to Sokka’s mistake, but he tried to smile to soften the sting. “Hmm, peaceful ferry ride, or deadly pass?” He rubbed his chin dramatically, and Sokka rolled his eyes.

It turned out they were closer to Full Moon Bay than they were to the Serpent’s Pass. If they had kept going down the road another half hour, they would have passed right by without even knowing it was there. Two Earthbenders sat at a small campfire just off the side of the road, and when the group of refugees approached, Ying’s husband, Than, asked them for “directions to The Bay.” The key words earned them passage through the wall of rock there, and the Earthbenders closed the passage immediately behind them.

Zuko expected to find happy people, celebrations of escape from danger, maybe laughing and music that he would scoff and ignore. But when they emerged into the cavernous sheltered bay, what they found was gray, dismal, and grim. Everywhere, Zuko found children crying or sitting silently with gaunt expressions. People with bandages. Families with a single bag of belongings between them. Folks crowding around the one group that had managed to bring a cooking pot. There was no music, or laughter, only sad smiles and hard determination, and the stench of too many people with too little bathwater.

Katara looked around in dismay. “I can’t believe how many people’s lives have been uprooted by the Fire Nation.” It was then that Zuko looked for the walls of the cavern, and was dismayed by how far he had to look. Every foot of dirty, gray space was marked by people, more and more people, far off into the distance.

Than nodded sadly, but tried to comfort the children. “We’re all looking for a better life, safe behind the walls of Ba Sing Se.” He took his wife by the arm, and led the group forward to join a long line of new arrivals waiting for their turn at the ticket booth.

As crowded and chaotic as the cavern itself was, the ticket booth and people behind it were just the opposite. Security was tight, and the lone woman responsible for certifying tickets was an unyielding wall of strict adherence to procedure. Their group approached slowly, in line behind a cabbage merchant who either didn’t have the proper documentation to enter the city through a more mainstream road, or intended to sell directly to the refugees themselves all along the journey.

“I told you already,” the woman declared, the mole on her face bouncing with the bob of her head. “No vegetables on the ferry! One cabbage snailslug could destroy the entire ecosystem of Ba Sing Se!” She stood tall, boosted by the booth platform that put her so high above the people she judged. “Security!”

Guards dressed in olive-green uniforms led a platapusbear up to the cart full of bright green cabbages, and then backed away from its head. The beast leaned over the plentiful harvest, and in a moment of flying leaves and crunching wood, the cabbages were gone, and the cart itself was cracked and listing to one side. The diminutive old merchant wailed, “My cabbages!” and was led away by more olive-clad security personnel.

“Next!”

Aang stepped forward, and even as tall as he was, only his head and shoulders cleared the surface of the desk. “Uh, hello! Six tickets for the ferry to Ba Sing Se, please!”

“Passports?” The crone of a woman didn’t even look up from her paperwork.

Projecting confusion and apology, Aang leaned against the stone booth and said, “No one told us we needed passports.”

When the woman didn’t immediately change tack and apologize, Sokka pushed forward from the line and insisted, “Don’t you know who this is? He’s the Avatar!” Zuko didn’t know how that fact wouldn’t be terribly obvious. The Airbender was wearing the thin, flowing orange fabric that only existed in sculptures and very detailed murals of Air Temples, and had the bald head and bright blue arrow tattoos of an Airbending Master.

“Ah,” she rasped in reply, “I see fifty Avatars a day. And by the way, not a very convincing costume.” She jabbed a thumb off to the side, where a group of old men with hunched backs, wrinkled faces, and painted-on tattoos stood milling about under the watchful eyes of a security guard. “Do I need to call security?”

Aang stepped back from the booth and held his hands up. “That won’t be necessary,” he said quickly and turned away, already considering other options.

“Next!”

“I’ll take care of this,” Toph interrupted in her tiny, assertive voice. She marched past Aang and reached up as far as she could to slide a piece of emerald-green paper onto the counter of the booth. “My name is Toph Beifong, and I’ll need six tickets.”

The ticket woman gasped. “The golden seal of the flying boar!” Who actually was this tiny Earthbender? Zuko had taken it for granted that she was as much of a nobody in the Avatar’s entourage as the Water Tribe siblings, but this clearly indicated otherwise. “It is my pleasure to help anyone of the Beifong family.” The woman bowed low over the counter, hanging the bells and tassels of her hairpiece almost low enough to brush against Toph’s silk headband.

“It is your pleasure,” the girl insisted with every ounce of royal arrogance Zuko would expect from his sister. “As you can see, I am blind,” she explained, “and these five imbiciles are my attendants.”

Zuko tried to look alert and attentive. The woman gave each of them a quick glance, but came back to Toph to protest, “But we usually make note of visible scars…” His stomach twisted. It always came back to his scar.

Toph interrupted the woman’s impudence. “I’m blind. Fuck his scar. He is a brilliant fighter, and the muscle behind my personal security.” What? Zuko knew nothing about this little Earthbender. Did she even know he was Fire Nation royalty? The twist in his stomach turned into something else, a warm, strange feeling that he thought he might like.

“Well,” started the ticket woman, arguing with herself about what to do, “normally it’s only one ticket per passport, but this document is so official…” Zuko held his breath. This was it. “I guess it’s worth six tickets.” The woman laid out six green slips of paper and stamped each one with her official mark.

Toph wasted no time. She reached up onto the counter, and with the farthest tips of her fingers, took hold of all the tickets and her passport. “Thank you very much,” she said disdainfully, and stalked away, the way the daughter of an immensely powerful family should. The others followed after her, like good attendants waiting to be needed.

When they were out of earshot, Sokka clapped Toph on the shoulder and cheered, “All right! We scammed that lady good!”

From behind him, an olive-clad security guard snatched him by the collar and spun him around to face her. Zuko stopped and turned back. Were they caught? Would they have to fight? He couldn’t Firebend here, not with so many refugees terrified of the Fire Nation. The guard held out her hand. “Tickets and passports please.” It was not a request. But the voice sounded familiar. Where had he heard it before?

Sokka didn’t have the tickets, and didn’t bother to fake reaching for them. “Is there a problem?” Zuko moved closer, to be within reach if the guard wanted trouble.

She leaned forward, putting her face forcefully close to Sokka’s and making the boy lean back to keep his distance. “Yeah, I got a problem with you! I’ve seen your type before. Probably sarcastic, think you’re hilarious, and let me guess, you’re travelling with the Avatar.” Check, check, and check. Who was this woman? Zuko still couldn’t place the voice, but he was sure now. They’d met before.

Sokka squinted at her suspiciously. “Do I know you?”

“You mean you don’t remember?” she demanded, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer. “Maybe you’ll remember this!” She jerked on the fabric, but instead of turning Sokka around and flipping him to the ground, or hogtying him, or anything else Zuko could imagine, she kissed him on the cheek.

Sokka stood in a daze, and then shook his head to clear it. “Suki!” He bounced forward and hugged her, and she hugged him back.

“Sokka, it’s good to see you!” That’s where he knew her voice from! This was the leader of those warrior girls on Kyoshi Island! Man, it had been a while. No wonder no one recognized her right away. She pulled Sokka by the arm, and the rest of them followed, up a flight of stairs to a lookout post above the ground floor, where they could talk without the risk of being overheard.

Katara started, “You look so different without your makeup! And the new outfit!” Zuko didn’t care about Suki’s new outfit. He watched the crowd below to be sure they weren’t noticed or followed. Every time there were lots of people around, things eventually went sideways.

Suki griped, “That crabby lady makes all the security guards wear them. And look at you, sleeveless guy,” she turned back to Sokka. “Been working out?”

“Eh, I’ll grab a tree branch and do a few chin touches every now and then,” he answered, stretching one arm with the other. “Nothing major.” Zuko tracked a lone wandering man through the crowd, but stopped when the target stooped low over a tiny campfire with two young girls huddled around. Another refugee caught his eye, and he tracked that person instead.

Iroh piped up, “Are the other Kyoshi Warriors around?” Good, Uncle, assess their weaknesses. Though, if he was being honest with himself, that’s not what his uncle was doing. He was genuinely asking after the health and well-being of people they had met in their journey. Zuko took a breath and switched who among the crowd he was tracking.

Suki sounded grateful for the concern. “Yeah. After you left Kyoshi, we wanted to find a way to help people,” she explained. “We ended up escorting some refugees and we’ve been here ever since.” She sounded content, but continued with more of a questioning tone. “So why are you guys getting tickets for the ferry? Wouldn’t you just fly across on Nini?”

Zuko let his quarry below vanish into the sea of other refuges, and turned to see Aang’s reaction. He didn’t know whether to expect rage, sorrow, or indifference. But the Airbender just stared out at the sea of people below and let Katara answer for him, “Nini is missing. We hope to find her in Ba Sing Se.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” the warrior replied, and turned to address Aang directly. “Are you doing okay?”

Without turning his head, the Airbender muttered, “I’m doing fine, Suki. I appreciate your concern.” But his voice was not appreciative. It was stiff like a piece of dead wood on the beach, scrubbed by the sand and bleached by the sun.

A voice from below Zuko’s perch pleaded for their attention. “Avatar Aang, you have to help us!” Ying and Than stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking desperately upward. “Someone took all of our belongings: our passports, our tickets, everything’s gone!” The woman sobbed into her hands, and her husband tried in vain to comfort her.

It was like someone had lit a candle in a dark room. Aang stood, and Zuko could actually feel the energy around him shift, as if having this task, this purpose to help people, was all he ever needed. “I’ll talk to the lady for you.”

He wasn’t sure if it was the orange robes, the menacing bowstaff, or the purposeful stride that kept people out of Aang’s way, but Zuko saw more than one refugee scramble to make way for the Avatar to pass. Back at the desk, he immediately approached the counter, and to the Prince’s surprise, asked politely for replacement tickets.

But the woman was set in her determination to follow the rules, regardless of the people it affected. “No passports, no tickets!” she insisted, and actually stamped a “Denied” symbol onto Aang’s forehead.

Without missing a beat, the Avatar launched into a counterargument. “But she’s pregnant, and all of their stuff was stolen. You have to make an exception!”

“No exceptions!” the woman croaked, waving her stone stamp in Aang’s face. “If I just gave away tickets willy-nilly to anyone, there would be no more order! You know what that means? No more civilization!”

Zuko was sure that was not a fair conclusion, but Aang pushed past it. “What if we gave them our tickets?”

“No!” the old crone stated with finality.

“But-”

“Next!”

When the Avatar turned back to the group, Zuko knew what was coming next. The set of his shoulders, the weight on his brow, and the force in his stride as he stalked away from the unyielding ticket woman said it all. “Don’t worry,” he said to Than and Ying, “you’ll get to the city safely.” There was no question of whether or not he could; he said it so it would be done. “I’ll lead you through the Serpent’s Pass.”


	33. The Serpent's Pass

They stood before the massive wooden gate at the Southern end of the Serpent’s Pass. Before them, a knife’s edge of rock juted up from the surface of the water, supporting a path that at times looked small enough to force travellers to march in single-file. On one side, high winds and the occasional Fire Nation patrol ship cut and tossed the water into a rough, choppy surf that crashed against the high, dark rock wall and sprayed fresh water across everything in the vicinity. The other side was sheltered by that very same rock, and the reflection of the clouds danced in tiny, soft ripples on the surface.

There was something vaguely ominous about this place. Zuko could see the striations in the rock, almost like a long-cooled lava flow, and could tell that the entire structure was one unbroken piece, strengthened and supported by the vertical height rather than weakened by it. But the very rock itself seemed to whisper in his mind, go back, monsters live here.

Sokka apparently felt none of the same foreboding. “This is the Serpent’s Pass?” he asked, almost mocking the moniker. “I thought it would be a little more wind-y, you know, like a serpent.” He shrugged when no one voiced an agreement. “Huh, I guess they misnamed it.”

Ying bent as far forward as her belly would allow, reading a hand-carved message on one of the gate pillars, but quickly stood and backed away from the message. “Look at this writing! How awful!”

Toph stood back and asked, “What does it say?”

Zuko was closest to the gate, and leaned in to see the characters. “It says, ‘abandon hope.’” At least someone had felt the same unease about this place.

“How can we abandon hope?” wailed Ying, clinging to her husband for support. “It’s all we have!”

Aang’s hushed monotone voice offered no comfort. “I don’t know,” he started. “The monks used to say that hope was a distraction.”

“That does not mean it must be abandoned.” Iroh, who had stood close to Aang since they made it out of the desert, had now grabbed the Avatar by the shoulder.

The taller Airbender stared down at the old Firebender, and the barest hint of his desert rage darkened his eyes. “Hope is not going to get us into Ba Sing Se,” Zuko felt a shiver crawl down his spine, “and it’s not going to help find Nini. We need to focus on what we’re doing right now and that’s getting across this path.”

“And why, then, do we cross the path at all, if not for hope?” Iroh retorted fiercely. “Hope is what pushes us forward, it is what keeps us moving and trying. Than and Ying hope for safety, so they brave danger. Sokka and Katara hope for peace, so they go to war. Zuko hopes for honor, so he chases Destiny and fights for it. You hope, too, but it hurts. I know it does, believe me.” And Zuko could believe it. He could only guess what things his uncle hoped for that were also painful. Iroh spoke softer now, staring forcefully into the gray, Airbender eyes. “You of all people must not give in to darkness and despair.”

The young Firebender spotted their Kyoshi Warrior escort nodding with equal ferocity. There, he thought, was someone who would continue to hope even in the face of certain defeat. Suki marched forward and said, “We should get moving if we hope to get across before tomorrow night.”

She walked with purpose through the massive wooden gate, followed by the Water Tribe siblings, Than and Ying, and then Toph. Zuko lingered to watch his uncle coax the Avatar forward. There was a slight tremor in Aang’s hands for a few steps. But he mumbled something to Iroh that looked like, “I can’t, not yet.” The old Firebender looked sad and resigned, and Aang raised his head to scan the path. His gray eyes were stone again.

The slow walk along the narrow ledge was mostly quiet. The sounds of footsteps and disturbed pebbles mixed with the constant lapping of waves on rock far below. Sea birds roosting in the crannies above the path occasionally squawked and flew off when the group came too close. Very rarely, when the wind picked up in just the right direction, it whistled through the topmost spines and spires of rock, like the sky was shrieking at the invaders.

A Fire Navy ship chugged along beside the massive blade of rock, oblivious to the tiny people on the path far above. Suki’s voice drifted back to Zuko as she explained, “The Fire Nation controls the Western lake. Rumor has it, they’re working on something big on the other side of it, and don’t want anyone to find out what it is.”

Zuko watched the vessel, remembering the crew of engineers, navigators, and commanders he had employed for three years aboard his own ship. Where were they now? Where was the ship? Probably decommissioned for parts as soon as it hit the dock. This one was much bigger. A newer model, its engine had more power and its weapons had more weight than anything Zuko would have been allowed to commandeer.

A crunching sound of rocks sliding against each other jolted Zuko back to the current moment. Than had stepped too close to the edge of the path, and the corner of rock had given way. A shower of jagged rocks fell away down the steep slope, and the man teetered on the edge of following them.

Toph tipped her head, and then thrust out her arm at an angle, and a platform of rock jutted out to catch Than before he fell. With a jerk upward, the little Earthbender wobbled the rock and tossed Than back up onto the path. The man stumbled away from the edge into Ying’s anxious arms, and breathed, “I’m okay!”

The shards of rock that fell caught other loose pieces and bits on the way down, stirring up a cloud of dust and a small avalanche of pebbles and rocks that fell into the lake. Zuko watched the Fire Navy ship closely. Maybe they hadn’t noticed. Maybe they’d been looking away.

The ship began turning. Without hesitation, Zuko shouted, “They’ve spotted us!”

Sokka called back from the front of the group, “How do you know?”

“Because,” Zuko responded with a growl, “I used to command one, remember?”

Half a second later, the first ballistae fired from the ship’s deck, and Sokka pushed forward. “Let’s go, let’s go!” The flaming ball of rock and pitch hurtled at the stone wall of the Serpent’s Pass, quickly followed by one from the secondary weapon. Aang leapt into the air on his glider. With a blast of air from a sturdy - potentially Earthbending - kick, he sent it hurtling out into the open lake where it landed with a sizzle of steam.

The second mortar struck the rocks above the path, just ahead of where Toph stood, directly above Katara. The Kyoshi Warrior leapt over Sokka and shoved Katara back along the path, out of harm’s way before bracing herself for the impact. Zuko heard Ying’s cry of alarm, and then Sokka’s. The boy dove back toward the rest of the group, pushing Suki past the point of danger and leaving himself in the line of fire.

With another strong arm motion, Toph created a sloped roof over Sokka’s head, and all the falling rocks and fire skidded out away from the ledge and fell freely into the water below. The boy looked up, surprised that he hadn’t been crushed, and then immediately leapt to Suki’s side and practically commanded her to be more careful. Toph shrugged her shoulders and imitated the Water Tribe boy under her breath, “‘Thanks for saving my life, Toph.’ Hey, no problem, Sokka.” Zuko stepped closer and thumped her on the shoulder. Someone had to. She smiled.

Aang landed at the front of the group, and Zuko could tell the Avatar was unhappy about the danger this ship posed to the group. He slung his glider in staff form across his back, planted his feet, and took a deep breath. Zuko glanced back down the line at Ying and Than. “You’ll want to see this.” Their eyes widened.

Aang opened his eyes, revealing blazing white pools of spiritual power. His tattoos pulsed with that same light. He raised his arms high, and all the water on the Wesern side of the lake bulged up in a wave crest between the rock wall and the Fire Navy ship. Then, Aang pressed his arms down and forward, driving the tsunami outward and pushing the ship right along with it. In seconds, the ship was out of range, and they were safe.

For the rest of the afternoon and evening, Aang stayed quiet, only answering direct questions. The path crossed to the opposite side of the wall near dusk, and eventually they found the midway rest plateau, the place where travellers through the ages had stopped to sleep for the night along the two-day journey across the Pass. The wide open area allowed the entire group to spread out, build a small fire, set up tents and bedrolls, and relax just a little.

Zuko had noticed Than and Ying casting furtive glances at him, ever since the encounter with the Fire Navy ship. He just waited. They would approach him when they had their thoughts together. He was eating stewed wolfbat jerky, a bit plain but passable, when Than finally came up and sat beside him. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t say I get your meaning,” the young Firebender replied carefully.

Than was uncomfortable, that was for sure. “You said you commanded a Fire Navy ship. Are you Fire Nation?” He was watching Zuko’s face for a reaction, and the exiled Prince could see the tension in the man’s limbs that said he would try to fight if he thought he had to. “Do you intend to hurt us, or the Avatar?”

Zuko considered his answer. Some of the facts Than wanted would be misconstrued. He opted for a bit of omission. “I am not welcome in the Fire Nation.” He squinted at Than through his scarred eye, and the man seemed to get the message.

Zuko thought about how many times people had lied to him, and how much he had hated it. He had even left his uncle, struck out on his own, nearly starved to death, because Iroh had lied the same way Zuko just had to Than. He sighed and set his reconstituted jerky aside. He needed to find his uncle.

The plateau was big enough for everyone here to have privacy, but not big enough for anyone to hide. He spotted his uncle sitting on an outcropping of rock, just above the far ledge, overlooking the Eastern lake and the clear reflection of the quarter-moon. As Zuko approached, he heard a voice, and stopped. Was Aang there, too? “For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I have to do something.”

Iroh nodded in the silver moonlight, his gray hair shifting in the light breeze. “Perhaps that also is Destiny. If you were to defeat the Fire Lord on the day of the comet, you would have to actively seek that out.”

“But look what happened when I actively sought knowledge to that end!” Zuko still couldn’t see the Airbender, but his voice was coming from the same direction. “Every single time I make a choice to push Destiny along, someone gets hurt. This time, it’s Nini. I saw her born, Iroh. I promised I would protect her.”

“You can’t protect us all,” said the Firebender, calm and steady as a mountain, letting the tempest thrash against its side and dissipate harmlessly. “Each of us here is capable of protecting ourselves and each other, Nini included.”

The harshness of the reply was a shock. “But she couldn’t, could she? They took her, muzzled her, traded her, and have likely now sold her.” The anger would have been enough to spontaneously breathe fire, but Aang kept it buried under an iron will, and for a moment, Zuko felt the ground shiver and shake, and begin to heat up. With an audible sigh from Aang, the motion stopped, and the air cooled. “If I could find her spirit, I could see if she was okay. Or not.” The palpable anger had turned now to cold grief. “But I can’t see her at all! I can’t find her!”

Iroh stood and took two steps forward, and now Zuko could see Aang, hovering just off the edge of the plateau on a wind tunnel. Iroh reached out precariously far, and placed a gentle hand on the Airbender’s shaking shoulder. Zuko backed away as quietly as he could. This was not meant for outside eyes. The soft sobbing that followed him back to the campfire was enough to leave him rattled. No wonder Aang had been so distant. He was hiding this from the people who needed to see him as a beacon of strength right now.

In the morning, everything seemed normal. Zuko was beginning to think he had imagined the entire previous night, but Aang’s mask of stoicism was too perfect. There was none of his normal banter or playfulness to be found. And when the young Firebender caught sight of his uncle, the old man was watching the Avatar intently. Guarding him? Guarding the rest of them from him? It was hard to tell. But Zuko finally put together that this was why his uncle had been more quiet lately.

The path had brought them close to the water again. Zuko was hopeful that it meant their knife’s-edge trek was almost over. There was a wide corner ahead blocking their view forward. Surely that was the end; the trail would open up to a proper road on the North side of the lake.

They turned the corner, and saw the tall ridge of rock continue into the distance, and nothing but water between them and the rest of the Pass, some hundred feet ahead of where they stood. The Pass was broken here. 

Without missing a beat, Katara called out, “Everyone, single file! Stay close,” and began waving her arms in circular motions above her head. She walked forward, flanked and followed by her brother, Suki, Toph, Than and Ying, Zuko and Iroh, and finally Aang in the back. The water parted before her, obeying her will and leaving a small space where they could walk on the lakebed. She alone maintained the bubble, closing the top over their heads.

The sounds of wind and waves died. The air turned humid and cool. The buzz in Zuko’s ears was almost soothed by the deep thrump and clomp of things moving in the deep water, muffled and echoed in odd ways. He had never heard anything like it. It reminded him so much of swimming in the ocean, when he would put his head under and his ears would fill with water and make everything sound solid, but hearing it with clear, dry ears brought it all into a unique kind of focus.

Zuko could see shadows moving in the water. Some in groups, some alone. Several rather large. He hadn’t thought about just how many things might live under the surface of this lake. It was positively teeming with life of all shapes and sizes. The ones that got close enough to see were shimmering, shining, and brightly colored. They were beautiful.

A deep fwoom resonated in the little air pocket as a massive shadow streaked past them, beyond the range of any light. The other shadows scattered. Zuko shied away from the edge of the water bubble. “What was that thing?”

A moment later, an enormous serpentine body crashed through the front of the water bubble, breaking Katara’s control of it and sending cascades of cold water spraying around all of their feet. Toph at the front of the group and Aang at the back reacted simultaneously, both using the same motion to press the earth beneath their feet upward. For a moment, there was no air. Zuko felt the lakewater rush by as the rock pressed against his feet.

With a crash and spray of water, they emerged safe and sound on the surface of the lake, standing on a circular pillar of stone. Beside them, another high spray of cold water showered them as a massive, sea-green serpent rose from the water to screech at the intruders.

Sokka resorted to banter, but couldn’t quite shake the fear from his voice. “I think I just figured out why they call it the Serpent’s Pass!” He turned to look at the Kyoshi Warrior. “Suki, you know about giant sea monsters, make it go away!”

Suki held her hands out, incredulous. “Just because I live near the Unagi doesn’t mean I’m an expert!”

The serpent dove toward their little island to strike, and with a burst of wind, Aang was there, standing firm between the sleek head and its target. There was no time to react. The Airbender took a wide Earthbending stance and thrust his hands forward in a blocking motion.

The water between Aang and the serpent frothed and splashed outward under the force of the Avatar’s Airbending. The serpent shut its eyes against the straight-line gale, and recoiled. Aang punched forward again, and the serpent was forced back, away from the island. He punched again, and the beast turned away, retreating beneath the newly-created waves.

Aang brought himself back to center with a circular arm motion, and stood tall again. As the sounds of wind and water settled back into calm silence, Toph blurted, “So, what just happened?”

Aang turned a too-bright smile on the little Earthbender and explained, “I showed it I was a stronger monster, and it decided not to fight me.” He turned his bright smile on Katara. “Do you think an ice boat would fit everyone? I think we are all ready to reach the end of the Pass.”

The Waterbender looked worried and skeptical. She saw the difference in Aang, too. But there was about as much she could do as Zuko could. She nodded and got to work on making a boat large and stable enough to support them all.

Zuko helped Toph into the ice boat, fully aware that she couldn’t ‘see’ anything once her feet left the rock island. She sat down as soon as she could, and stayed there until they were on the other side of the breach. Safely on the rocks again, it took the group only about until early afternoon to reach the Northern shore, and by early evening, they could see the great Wall of Ba Sing Se in the distance.

“There’s the wall!” Sokka called out in excitement. “Now it’s nothing but smooth sailing to Ba Sing Se.” The boy’s wide smile reminded Zuko that Sokka’s purpose in the city was not his own. Would he really let the boy divulge information that would hurt the Fire Nation? Could he allow it if it was meant to hurt his father alone? Was it just? The Spirits knew the Fire Nation had done some truly horrible things in the war. What recompense would be enough to balance the scales? Maybe wholesale defeat was the just option. But where would that put him? He had to be Fire Lord, and that meant there had to be a Fire Nation to rule.

A grunt of effort from Ying didn’t raise any alarms. She was pregnant, and travelling. It was difficult for her. But her groan quickly became a shout, and then a shrill cry. Zuko whipped around to see where the danger was, but she was just leaning over, one hand on her husband and the other on her belly. She looked up at them with determined eyes and a brow already drenched in sweat. “The baby’s coming.”

Zuko’s mind raced. If it wasn’t danger and death, now Destiny was throwing birth and life into the mix! What was he supposed to do with that? What lesson was this?!

Sokka was panicking. “What? Now?! Can’t you hold it in or something?” He was flailing around, looking in vain for something to do, some way to help stop this new event.

Katara’s voice cut through the panic and confusion. “Sokka, calm down.” And Zuko did, too. There was someone in command. “I helped Gran-Gran deliver lots of babies back home.” Her confidence was apparent in every word, and even her hands on her hips were relaxed and ready for the challenge.

“This isn’t the same as delivering an arctic seal!” cried Sokka. “This is a real… human… thing!”

“It’s called a baby,” his sister teased, “and I helped her deliver plenty of those, too.” She started pointing and barking orders, and her subjects jumped to their tasks. “Aang, find something to use for rags. Sokka, water. Toph, I need you to make an earth tent - a big one.” She waited a beat for Toph to Earthbend a huge tent around Ying and Than, and then said, “Suki, come with me,” and walked inside.

Zuko looked to his uncle. “What should we do?”

“For now,” the old General replied, “we are not needed. We do what we can to be sure we are not in the way.” He looked into his nephew’s eyes with a warm smile. “Times like this, it is best to let the midwife control what happens. She knows best.” He took a seat on the ground outside the tent, near enough to hear but far enough not to disturb.

The exiled Prince followed, and sat wringing his hands. There was really nothing to do. “Uncle,” he started, uncertain, “I lied.” He saw his mentor’s curious gaze, and stumbled, “I- I mean, Than asked about the ship, and what I said, and I didn’t tell him. I only said what I thought would help, not what he was asking for.” This wasn’t coming out right. He sighed. “I’m sorry I hated you for lying.”

The sounds of screaming and orders from inside the tent were distant as Zuko waited for his uncle’s reaction. The old man stared for a long time at his nephew, with an expression of mixed sadness, pride, and relief. Finally, he spoke. “You have every right to the truth, Zuko. All of it. Eventually, you will be surrounded by people who give you nothing but the whole, unadulterated truth, and you will have to sift through meanings on your own. But remember this feeling. Truth is always the answer, but it is not always the perfect answer. Diplomacy sometimes requires minor falsehoods.” He wrapped his arm around Zuko and pulled him into a tight hug. “But also, I am sorry that I lied. I was too concerned with how you would react, and not concerned enough with why. I am happy that you have taken the time to sift through the meanings on your own.”

“It’s a girl!”

Zuko raised his head. “Already?” He thought these things took more time than that!

Iroh chuckled. “She has been in labor for hours now. This was just the final sprint to the finish line.” He stood and motioned to the others who were milling around outside, Sokka and Toph. “Let’s go inside and meet the new person.”

Ushered inside, Zuko, Sokka, and Toph stood at the edge of the stone tent and let their eyes adjust to the dimly-lit interior. Iroh stood at the door, and insisted, “Avatar Aang, you have to come see this.” Soon, the Airbender was in the tent, too, joining the ring of guests close enough to see the new baby but far enough not to disturb her.

The baby, for her part, was wailing louder than Zuko thought a baby could. Toph laughed and said, “She sounds healthy.”

Sokka leaned forward just a bit. “It’s so… squishy-looking.”

Zuko looked at the tiny baby, wrapped so securely in her mother’s arms. She was beautiful, and strong, and protected. She was loved, fiercely, by not just the woman who held her, but also the man beside her. This… this was a family. This was what a family was meant to be. This little girl would have the undying loyalty and love of her parents. She would never be alone a day in her life, even if she was actually alone.

Across the tent, Aang sniffed and wiped tears from his eyes. “I’ve been going through a hard time lately.” He crouched to be closer to the baby girl, who stopped caterwauling and reached out toward the blue tattoo on his hand. He held it out for her to inspect, and she immediately tried to stuff it in her mouth, like a lamprey stuck on a tigershark. “I thought I was being safe, protecting the people I have left, but life isn’t that easy.” He smiled, and then laughed at the baby trying to lick the tattoo off his hand. “It keeps moving, and creating new things, and new experiences, good and bad.

“I have been a passive observer, a passenger in my own life, for so long. I forgot what it was like to have a goal, and the hope to see it done.” The Avatar turned a face covered in happy tears on the new parents. “Thank you, for being relentlessly hopeful.”

Ying smiled kindly at Aang, and turned to Than to say, “I know what I want to name our baby now.” She fussed with the wrappings to bring the girl’s arm back into the warm embrace. “Hope.”

Than beamed at his new family. “That’s a perfect name. Hope.”

The grizzled old Avatar got up slowly and left the tent. Zuko quietly followed him. He thought he knew what might come next. He found Aang gathering a few small things. “You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question, or even an accusation. The Airbender had to retrieve his family. He would never be whole if he didn’t.

“I made you a promise,” the Airbender said. “And I will honor it. I will come back, and if Destiny wills that we go to the Fire Nation, we will go, you and I.” Zuko nodded, but let him speak. “I will find her as quickly as I can. I just have to do this.”

“I know,” the exiled Prince responded. Family, real family, did things like this. “You’ll find her, Aang.”

“Thank you, Zuko,” he said. He shouldered his bag and kicked open his glider. Zuko waited for the gust of wind to die down before he ran his fingers through his shaggy hair to smooth it out. He was trusting Destiny, and he was trusting Aang, and now he had to go have a talk about trusting Sokka with the fate of his Nation.


	34. The Drill

Aang was back before nightfall. They had said goodbye to Suki, and were camped out at the stone tent, letting Ying and Hope rest for the journey, when the unmistakable sound of Aang snapping his glider closed and landing lightly on his feet met their ears from just up the road. He strode up to the campfire with purpose.

Katara questioned, “Aang, what are you doing here? I thought you were looking for Nini.”

“I was, but something else has come up,” he replied in a huff. “Something big.” He sat at the campfire and laid his staff across his lap at the ready. “Iroh, my friend, I need to know if you and Zuko know anything about a giant mechanical drill, and if one of you would be able to help me disable it.”

There was silence for a few seconds, and then everyone had questions.

“A drill?” asked Sokka.

“Is it Fire Nation?” Katara reasoned.

“Is it attacking the city?” pried Toph.

“How big?” Zuko searched.

“How far is it from here?” Iroh questioned.

There was more silence as Aang gathered his thoughts. “There is a massive drill with Fire Nation insignia approaching the Outer Wall of Ba Sing Se, he explained, looking at Sokka, Katara, and Toph in turn as he answered each of their questions. “It appears steam powered, but I know very little about who is running it or how it functions.” He looked intently at Iroh now, clearly hoping the old General might have some insight. “Would there be a pattern to its weak points, and would you be able to help me stop it?” His face was serious, and his brow furrowed with worry. “We have a day, maybe less.”

The old General sat up straighter, squared his shoulders, and answered with command. “I won’t know specifics without seeing it, but I can say that most Fire Nation vehicles are designed by the same engineers, and operate in similar ways. I expect I could identify a weak point.”

Zuko thought of something, and piped up, “We are still a day and a half of travel from Ba Sing Se. How are we going to get there in time to do anything?” To himself, he thought, should they do something, or let the Fire Nation have this victory? Would the citizens of the city, the innocent people, be harmed? The fact that he couldn’t say for sure one way or the other rankled in his mind, and set a weight on his heart. If push came to shove here, under these circumstances, he would fight against his Nation. It was the right thing to do.

“For that,” Aang said, raising an eyebrow and turning an intriguing eye on Toph, “we are going to use some… unconventional… Earthbending.”

Toph’s crooked smile was her answer to the unspoken question. It made Zuko nervous. Everyone jumped into motion, gathering their things, snuffing out the fire, and Aang went into the stone tent to speak with Ying and Than about what their next move was. The stars began to spark to life in the deepening dusk. Ying emerged from the tent first, holding baby Hope close to her chest. Than and Aang exchanged glances of concern and assurance, and finally, everyone gathered on the road around the little blind Earthbender.

Aang stepped up beside her. “Okay, so this is what we’re going to do.” He placed his feet in a wide stance, but kept his knees closer than traditional Earthbending. “Like a wave, we are going to surf from here to the wall.” He moved slow, letting her watch and learn his movements. Smooth, sinuous sweeps of his arms, and shifting weight between his legs, back and forth, making his motions move like the wave he wanted the earth to resemble.

Zuko almost lost his balance when the ground beneath his feet began to shift like water. He had quickly developed sea legs while on his ship, but this was very different. He had nothing to compare it to. His feet rose at different rates, and if he pressed on one of them it would sink just a bit before the Earthbenders’ movements coaxed it back into place. But once the pattern was established, he found he could lean into it, and almost felt like he was actually surfing, like back on Ember Island with Lu Ten.

They moved slowly at first. Zuko got his balance, and then stepped carefully across the mound of shifting earth to help Than get his balance. The man had spent his whole life in the Earth Kingdom, and the waves here simply didn’t compare to a volcanic archipelago. With a little guidance, he caught on quickly, and helped his wife stand more steady, too, ending her knees slightly to react better to changes in motion.

Once everyone was comfortable, Aang smiled, and raised his eyebrow in that way that told Zuko he was about to do something potentially dangerous, probably a little reckless, and definitely fun. “Everyone got the hang of it? Good, let’s turn up the speed.” His motions grew more broad and bold, and Toph matched them move-for-move.

The trees sped by in a blur. Now it was really like surfing, with the wind in his face and the bugs hitting his cheeks like droplets of sea spray. The distant wall of Ba Sing Se was a strip of pure black on the dark blue of the horizon. It grew slowly. Every time Zuko looked, it was taller, closer. A campfire streaked by in the edge of his vision, leaving a line across the side of his eye that made things glow purple for a few minutes. Still, the world fell away, and the wind tousled Zuko’s hair.

Now, when he looked up at the wall, illuminated by the faint silver light of the waning quarter moon, the gray face rose impossibly high. They had to be close now. The trees beside the road stopped suddenly, and they zoomed forward into open grasslands and unobstructed moonlight. But still, the base of the enormous wall was distant. Aang and Toph moved in sync, driving the mounded wave of earth forward at incredible speed, faster than any ostrichhorse, faster he thought than a mongooselizard, and smoothly enough that baby Hope slumbered peacefully in Ying’s arms.

I was still an hour before Zuko could make out details of the base of the wall. And an hour more before he thought they might be getting close. The moonlit stone structure stretched up and up into the sky, blocking his view of anything ahead. There was nothing but the wall. 

As they approached, Aang and Toph slowed them down, finally coming to a stop beside the huge bricks of tan stone, still gray under the now-setting moon. Even at that speed, it had taken them all night to get there. “Alright everyone,” the Avatar announced, motioning everyone closer. “Gather close, and we will use a rock platform to get us all up to the top of the wall.”

Zuko sighed, glad his feet were back on solid ground, but feeling somehow cheated by their impossibly fast travel. They could have saved so much time! Why? But he thought he knew.

With more traditional Earthbending stomps, Aang and Toph broke the slab of rock they were standing on and propelled it upward, sliding against the wall. Zuko saw the first hints of sunrise beginning to lighten the blackness of night to the East. He heard his uncle muttering under his breath, “Who would have thought I would return to the scene of my greatest military defeat, standing beside the Avatar?”

“We’re not his allies, you know,” Zuko hissed, trusting the grinding rocks to hide his voice. “We’re just waiting for Destiny to find us.”

Iroh glanced surreptitiously down at his nephew. “Then why are we offering to assist in stopping the drill?”

Before Zuko could answer, the stone platform slowed and stopped level with the top of the battlements, high above the grasslands. Aang helped Than and Ying onto the top of the wall first, and the others stepped off after, finally followed by Toph. Without the influence of an Earthbender, the platform fell to pieces and seemed to float back down the immense distance to the ground.

A guard approached them, holding a lantern in the pre-dawn gloom. “What are you people doing here?” he barked. “Civilians aren’t allowed on the wall!”

Aang stepped forward and drew himself up to his full, imposing height. “I’m the Avatar. Take me to whoever is in charge.”

The guard shot a disbelieving look at Aang, but then saw the tattoos, took a moment to look over the clothes and staff, and his eyes grew wide. There was no mistaking the look of an Airbender. With a few terse orders, Than and Ying had been taken to safety within the city, and Aang was leading the rest of them across the top of the wall to the nearest command post.

The group filed into the covered, lantern-lit command structure, and Aang strode directly up to the desk, disturbing a short, hunched man from reading his scrolls. The little man stood from his chair, but only to about Aang’s elbows. “It’s an honor to welcome you to the Outer Wall, Avatar,” he began, and Zuko heard the note in his voice that meant a ‘but’ was coming. “But your help is not needed.”

Aang cocked one eyebrow. “Not needed?”

“Not neded.” The man was surprisingly calm for just having dismissed the most powerful being in the world with nothing more than a wave of his hand. “I have the situation under control.” Even Zuko doubted that. “I assure you, the Fire Nation cannot penetrate this wall. Many have tried to break through it, but none have succeeded.”

Toph was not putting up with the man’s callousness. “What about the Dragon of the West?” she offered, and Zuko was glad that her blind eyes did not flicker in his uncle’s direction. “He got in.”

The tiny commander stammered, “Well… uh, technically, yes, but he was quickly expunged.” He held up a finger like he had just discovered a way to erase the failings of his country. “Nevertheless,” he continued with a blissful smile, “that’s why the city is named Ba Sing Se. It’s the ‘Impenetrable City.’ They didn’t call it Na Sing Se!” He waited for laughter at his joke, but Zuko was not alone in remaining silent. Puns got old when you travelled with Aang and Iroh. “Uh, that means ‘Penetrable City,’” the little man explained, and paused again for laughter that never came.

Toph’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Yeah, thanks for the tour, but we still have the drill problem.” Her head came to the tiny General’s elbow, but her poise was difficult to ignore.

The man didn’t even question why a child would be demanding information from him. “Not for long,” he announced. “To stop it, I’ve sent an elite platoon of Earthbenders called the Terra Team.”

Zuko took note of the name.

So did Sokka, but for a different reason. “That’s a good group name,” he mused. “Very catchy.”

Aang gave an order, “Show me,” and the General obeyed without a moment’s hesitation. The group followed him along the battlements for a few minutes. The sun finally began to peek out over the horizon behind them. As the first rays of dawn touched the great wall of Ba Sing Se, the shine of metal broke the soft tans and muted grays of the countryside.

Far below them, steadily approaching the impenetrable wall, was an equally impressive but far less imposing machine. From this height and distance, it appeared like a kangaroomouse to a lionvulture, small and insignificant in comparison to the mighty fortress wall. But as they drew closer, and as it drew closer, Zuko spotted specks of dark metal beside the drill. It took a moment to recognize the rolling tanks that the Fire Nation army enjoyed using for frontal assaults that would involve taking sustained fire from the enemy.

With the tanks for a scale reference, Zuko was finally able to put in perspective what this drill was, and why it was enough to prevent Aang from going on his search for his bison. This metal monster of a machine was taller than the entirety of the royal palace, and long enough that the only comfortable way to get all the way from one end to the other would be mounted on an ostrichhorse or other travel beast. Every hundred-foot section was separate from the others, and slid forward independently, like a snakeslug using individual belly scales to slither along the ground.

The Terra Team, from Zuko’s view, was a low cloud of dust approaching in six groups, three to each side of the drill. The dust clouds moved quickly, and in unison, drawing up beside the path of the massive machine at points evenly spaced along its length. Like well-oiled clockwork, the six dust clouds erupted simultaneously with six tall columns of stone, spearing the sides of the drill at an angle that would halt its movement.

They were drawing closer now along the top of the wall, and the exiled Prince could begin to make out tiny figures in the dust clouds, the Terra Team’s individual Earthbenders recoiling and shielding their faces as each pillar of stone cracked and crumbled away from the massive drill. The joints of the metal monster only slid past each other, and nothing short of lava or metal would be able to stop them from the outside.

While the elite Earthbenders were distracted by their failure, two new figures descended from the top of the drill, and immediately beset the enemy. One figure seemed to float among the members of the Terra Team, leaving them prone in the dust in its wake. The other figure would periodically throw their arm forward, and every enemy before it fell back as if under a barrage of fire. Mai. And the dancer was Ty Lee. His heart leapt up into his throat. How could he fight Mai?

The diminutive General was wailing about his doom, and Sokka was shaking him by the shoulders. The sight of the fifteen-year-old Water Tribe warrior manhandling an elderly Earth Kingdom General was almost comical. But Zuko’s ears were tuned to his other side, listening to the Avatar and the Dragon of the West discuss strategy.

Aang had begun by asking, “So, my friend, can you tell anything about how it works?”

“No,” Iroh replied, “not from here. I can infer a few things based on its design though.” Aang raised interested eyebrows and waited patiently. “The front is a grinding mechanism, but there is no waste removal visible. The ground rock and dust would have to be transported through the main body of the drill, and deposited elsewhere.” The old Firebender leaned out over the battlements to point as he explained. “The small anchors that look like the feet of a caterpillar, there,” he illustrated, “would have to be significantly weaker, and might be a way to slow the forward movement somewhat.” He motioned upward at an elevated room, what Zuko might guess would be the command bridge. “And there, that’s where all the orders are coming from, and a sustained hot fire would be plenty to melt the supporting struts.”

“That would more than likely kill anyone up there,” mused Aang, “so I would like to avoid that if possible.” Without raising his voice, or even turning his head, he called, “What do you think, Toph? Could you slow it down?”

The blind Earthbender tipped her ear toward him from the other side of the walltop congregation. “Sure,” she called loudly to make herself heard over the commotion of Sokka and the General, “I could slow it down. Probably not stop it, though. Too much of its power comes from the internal motions, and I can’t get a good enough read from the metal at this distance to tell.” The General was ogling Aang now, the same way the warriors at the Northern Water Tribe had looked up at the Ocean Spirit’s wrathful form as it had wreaked havoc on their enemies. Like a savior.

Aang turned an eye on Katara. “What about you? Think you could get it cold enough to be brittle? Could we crack it like an egg that way?”

The Waterbender rubbed her chin and considered her answer. “Maybe, if I had enough water and enough time. But there aren’t any rivers or lakes this close to the wall, and I suspect the drill would break out anyway before I could get it supercooled like that.” Her face lit up with realization. “But I would bet that the drill had water systems inside, like the tanks do. We could freeze the treads off the tanks pretty easily. I imagine the water inside the drill would be able to break a lot of things pretty quickly.”

Aang nodded thoughtfully, then hummed, “Sokka, are your genius brain juices flowing? If we get inside that metal monster, could you find schematics and weak points? Your tactical mind is the best suited for it.”

The Water Tribe warrior grinned wide. “I have already started putting ideas together.”

“Good lad,” said Aang, and laid a proud hand on the boy’s shoulder, before turning to look at Zuko behind him. “I don’t think it would be even close to fair to ask either of you to do this.”

Zuko was torn between feeling targeted for his connection to an instrument of indiscriminate destruction, and thankful that Aang might take the decision from him about whether or not to face or even hurt Mai.

“But I still need your help,” the Avatar continued. “Could I ask you to take care of the civilians on the other side of the wall?” 

It was like a weight had been lifted from Zuko’s shoulders. He could help, he could save people from his father, and he could do it without being seen or recognized, and without hurting Mai. He raised his head and squared his shoulders, and with conviction, declared, “Consider it done.”

The group parted at the top of the wall, as Earth Kingdom guards escorted Zuko and Iroh down to the interior of the wall. They, with the rest of the guards, began going door-to-door along the wall, asking and sometimes bribing people to move out of the drill’s path. For people this close to the wall, the War was a constant thought, and the precaution raised no new concerns.

The exiled Prince was climbing a set of wooden stairs set directly against the wall itself, approaching three wall-mounted houses that were next in the line, when he felt the shuddering start. The initial thrumm of the stones was more powerful, and was quickly followed by a steady shiver. The drill had reached the wall. It had begun boring through. So Toph had slowed it a bit, but not enough. Now it was up to the others. He knocked on the next door.

He got off the wall as quickly as he could. The vibrations in the stone were enough to convince the people there to leave; he didn’t need to argue. Evacuees were gathering at one of the trolley stations nearby, close enough to return as soon as the immediate threat was neutralized. When Zuko had evacuated the last dwelling in his assigned route, he escorted the two young men back to the trolley station to regroup and find his uncle.

One of the Earthbending-powered train cars was closing its doors just as he approached, and a solid thwack on one of the windows startled him and drew his eye. Behind the glass, a familiar face stared at him with open loathing. Jet was in Ba Sing Se, and he knew Zuko was, too. And he knew Zuko was Fire Nation. He couldn’t remember if he knew anything more damning than that, but it was already bad.

And if that wasn’t problem enough, just as the grinding sound of the trolley filled the air, it was overshadowed by a screech of metal against stone. The great, tan, impenetrable wall bulged outward, destroying two of the wall-mounted houses Zuko had evacuated half an hour earlier. Had Aang failed? The exiled Prince hadn’t even considered that as a possibility.

The broken pieces of wall crumbled away, and the cutting end of the drill was in sight for the first time. Large, spinning, spiked balls were in turn set into the main face of the drill, which itself spun in the other direction. It was impressively efficient, and would have been brutal if anyone had still been on the wall when the cutting face broke through. His uncle came jogging heavily up the path to the crowded station, and made his way to Zuko. Without a word, he stood beside him, watching the drill crawl slowly through the broken wall and into the last bastion of the Earth Kingdom.

It felt like an hour of waiting to see if the drill would stop or not. Zuko thought he caught brief flashes of blue fire from the crack between the broken edge of the wall and the slowly approaching drill. It would make sense that Azula was there, if Mai and Ty Lee were. That was a fight he was not eager to lose again, and a reason to be glad he was on this side of the wall.

And then, for just a fraction of a second, Zuko felt like something massive was happening. His skin tingled like a bolt of lightning had struck nearby, from a cloudless blue sky. The massive wall pressed in on him, making him feel small and trapped behind the tall stone. Suddenly, a blinding flash emanated from where they could see the top of the wall, and a brief blast of what might have been yellow-white fire slashed out from the crack between the broken wall and the drill that had broken it. After another moment, a boom and a shockwave washed over the trolley station, knocking the wind from Zuko’s lungs. All around him, the evacuees began coughing to regain their breath. “Uncle, what was that?!”

The old Firebender pointed to the bottom of the drill’s face, and Zuko squinted to get a good look at what was there. A puddle of mud, sludge the color of the wall above, was leaking from the drill’s cutting surfaces. The whirr of the spinning machine was beginning to drop in pitch. The whole thing had stopped moving forward. “The Avatar has won.” He smiled at his nephew. “Ba Sing Se is safe once again.”


	35. City of Walls

They weren’t even in the city yet, and Zuko was already so tired of being stared at. Every stranger in the small monorail boxcar had already glanced at him no less than twice. It didn’t help that his greatest sources of scar-free interaction, Aang and Iroh, were staring steadfastly out the windows at the approaching Inner Wall, the only thing separating them from the main population of Ba Sing Se.

Zuko tried to get Aang’s attention, nudging his knee, waving subtle fingers in his direction, but the old Airbender was dead focused on the wall, and the prospect of finding Nini beyond it. The exiled Prince sighed. If he couldn’t get the Avatar to put up whatever that sound barrier was, he would just have to watch his words and hope that Sokka caught on.

“Sokka,” he started, “I want to talk to you about your plan, you know, from the library.” As soon as the boy looked up at him, he continued, not leaving room for words that might give away his meaning. “I would appreciate if you focused your efforts on a single target, instead of a whole group of people who may not have anything to do with it.” He glanced around, and still, no one had taken notice of his words. Good. Under his breath, he hissed, “I would like to have a home to go back to, if you catch my meaning…” He waggled an eyebrow, trying to get the younger boy to just think a little.

Sokka sat in confusion for a few seconds, before the realization dawned on him, and his eyes grew wide. “Oh…” he said softly. “I- I really hadn’t thought about it that way.” The sounds of the trolley, the scraping stone on stone of Earthbending, deepened and echoed as the windows darkened. They were passing through the wall. “Man, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how that would sound to you.” With an airy whoosh, they came out the other side of the Inner Wall, and all conversation stopped.

From high on the monorail track, the expanse of the city was laid out before them as far as the eye could see. Zuko had heard of the massive size of Ba Sing Se, had seen the scale of the walls, but nothing had quite prepared him for this. Building after building, street after street, track after track, the dusty, earthen huts, hovels, and tall two-story shacks just kept going. Far in the distance, Zuko spotted another wall, and even bigger roofs behind it on the rising slope of the hill.

The trolley slid into the station and ground to a stop, and everyone stood to exit to the platform. This car would go back to the Outer Wall to get more refugees, and the people at the station would catch another trolley to go farther in, or would disperse into the streets and begin making lives for themselves here. Aang stepped off onto the platform after the others, and more than a few eyes followed his regal orange robes and prominent blue tattoos as he made his way to the edge, looking out over the city.

The Airbender pulled a small bison whistle from his robes. Zuko could still feel the one he had hidden in the inside pocket of his shirt. Aang put the wood to his mouth and blew for a second, but nothing came out. There was no sound at all. Was it broken? “I’m coming for you, little buddy. Just hang on,” Aang muttered, then spoke up to his friends, who had gathered behind him on the platform. “She’s here; I can feel it.” Iroh put a hand on his shoulder, and Aang patted it gratefully without turning.

Zuko heard footsteps approaching behind them, and turned to find a young woman with shiny, perfectly straight black hair and a wide, vapid smile, waiting patiently to be noticed. Zuko’s stare alerted Sokka and Katara, and Toph and Aang could likely just sense the woman standing there. When everyone but Aang had turned, she still stood waiting, and cleared her throat to try to catch the Avatar’s attention. Now, Zuko was sure Aang knew she was there. He still refused to turn. She stood in silence on the slowly-emptying platform.

Only once they were properly alone did the Avatar turn to see the woman. She immediately bounced her head with enthusiasm, and recited, “Hello, my name is Joo Dee! I have been given the great honor of showing the Avatar around Ba Sing Se.” Her closed-eyed smile turned to the others in the group, one by one. “And you must be Sokka, Katara, Toph, Lee, and Mushi! Welcome to our wonderful city. Shall we get started?”

Zuko tried to hide his surprise. Clearly, the Earth King had some knowledge of the Avatar’s group, but this meant the knowledge was incomplete. They didn’t know about him, or his uncle. Hopefully, they could keep it that way.

Sokka stepped forward, eager to get moving. “Yes. We have information about the Fire Nation Army that we need to deliver to the Earth King, immediately.” Zuko noted the addition of the word ‘army’ and reminded himself to thank the boy later.

But Joo Dee’s airy smile did not waver. “Great! Let’s begin our tour, and then I’ll show you to your new home here! I think you’ll like it!”

As she started moving away, Sokka marched forward again, and got in her face to keep her from escaping. “Maybe you missed what I said. We need to talk to the King about the War,” he stepped his words slowly, pronouncing every syllable for her. “It’s important.”

“You’re in Ba Sing Se now,” she tittered without a moment of thought. “Everyone is safe here.” With a graceful sidestep, she moved past the young Warrior and started down the stairs to street level. Sokka looked to Aang with a bewildered blink, and the Airbender shrugged and motioned for them to follow.

Their guided carriage etour took them through each of the three levels of city life, each separated by walls to ‘maintain order.’ Zuko hadn’t had very much experience with life outside the Royal Palace growing up, but he was still certain this was very different from the Fire Nation. For one, if all the poor and working people lived way out in the Lower Ring, how could they be expected to report for servant duty on time, or transport their wares to the Middle Ring shops? It just seemed like a way to keep poor people poor, and where was the justice in that?

Sokka tried twice more to bring up the idea of seeing the Earth King, the last time while they were briefly parked just out the front gate of the Earth King’s Palace. “Can we see the Earth King now?” He had slowly lost hope throughout the tour, but still Aang watched Joo Dee intently for her answer.

“Oh, no,” she bubbled, holding that same vapid smile. “One doesn’t just pop in on the Earth King!”

Now, Zuko was suspicious. If a commoner had declared a discovery of crucial knowledge against the Earth Kingdom, they would have been dragged before the Fire Lord’s throne whether they wanted to be there or not. This was just irresponsible. Without even a mention of it, the woman motioned to the carriage driver, and they were off again, this time to the Upper Ring house that had been reserved for the Avatar.

Zuko was still fuming about the irrationality of the Earth King’s tactics when the carriage finally stopped and the door was opened for them to exit. Joo Dee sang, “Here we are! Your new home!” To the quaint little house’s credit, it was no luxurious mansion like they had passed, but was more compact, manageable, almost homey. The bushes near the door were immaculately manicured, and the flowers in the flowerbed were blooming profusely under some master gardener’s care. The faintly sweet smell was just able to drift out to the road to greet them.

A messenger bustled up to Joo Dee, handed her a scroll, then bowed and departed. She unrolled the message, and her wide smile beamed up at the group, standing on the steps and porch of the house. “More good news,” she prattled. “Your request for an audience with the Earth King is being processed, and should be put through in about a month! Much more quickly than usual.”

Sokka’s jaw could have hit the ground. “A month?!”

“Six to eight weeks, actually,” Joo Dee preened, and closed her eyes to smile wider. Zuko was about over her delays and diversions. He wanted to punch her just to stop her from talking. He couldn’t imagine Sokka, with an actual goal that was being stymied by this woman. She stepped up to the door and led them inside. “Isn’t it nice? I think you’ll really enjoy it here.”

This wasn’t diplomacy. Zuko knew what this was. It was a babysitter. His caretakers as a young child had done just this. The diversions and misdirections, the setting of boundaries and dismissal of argument, all of it was the same thing he and his sister had been subjected to when Mother had to be away. It was the way someone with no power whatsoever controlled someone with immeasurable power. He glared at the woman. All he needed now was for her to leave the room. He had done this before.

Sokka was still engaging with the lies. “I think we would enjoy it more if we weren’t staying so long,” he pried. “Can’t we see the Earth King any sooner?”

Joo Dee’s singsong voice was just a roadblock in Zuko’s mind now. She would say no, but she would do it in a way that made it seem like a good thing.

Aang moved toward the door with purpose. “If we’re going to be here for a month, we should spend our time looking for Nini.” There. She wouldn’t dare stand in the Avatar’s way, right?

But Zuko had to stare incredulously at her determined response, stepping between the Avatar and the doorway that led to his bison. “I’d like to escort you anywhere you’d like to go.”

“We don’t need a babysitter,” growled Toph from a chair. At least they were all starting to get on the same page.

Joo Dee held on to that wide, sterile smile, and explained, “Oh, I won’t get in the way.” As she stood directly in the way. Zuko scoffed. “And to leave you alone would make me a bad host! Where shall we start?”

“I’ll start right here,” the exiled Prince offered. Maybe splitting the group would force the puppet woman to pick who to follow. He caught the calculating look in Aang’s eyes, and knew he understood. “I’ve been stared at enough for today, and it’s lunch time. Uncle, would you come with me to one of the restaurants nearby? We can ask about the bison there, too. Cover more ground.” He stared intently at the older Firebender, who slowly nodded, trusting his nephew’s instincts.

To Zuko’s chagrin, though, Joo Dee called a second carriage and a Palace Guard to escort them, while she went with the Avatar. They were still being watched. Just maybe not as closely. It would have to be enough. If the quickest way to move forward was to find Nini, then that was what he would try to do. And he figured a good place to start would be where people talk to each other, restaurants, tea shops, marketplaces. They made their way to the Middle Ring, and chose somewhere to eat.

They sat down at a cozy, bustling little sit-down tea shop with an adjoining meat vendor, which Zuko thought might give them the widest range of interactions. Before the guard could join them at the table, Zuko held out a hand, and said, “Please, it’s been so long travelling with the Avatar, I haven’t had any real time with my uncle.” He looked the man in the eyes, and tried to look placating, unassuming, and nonthreatening. “Could you just sit over there, at the other table…”

The only other empty table was on the opposite wall. The guard glanced back at Zuko with suspicion, but decided the scarred refugee kid was not going to cause a stir. He nodded and took the empty table, and Iroh ordered some Jasmine tea to be sent to him as a thanks.

“So,” began the old Firebender, glancing sideways at his nephew. “What are we doing now?”

Zuko knew how he had reached this point, but he thought through all the reasoning again, to get it all straight in his mind. “I still have a destiny to fulfill,” he started, keeping his voice low, “and the Avatar is key to me achieving it. I can’t leave him, I can’t fight him, I can’t really help him without feeling awful. He is not my friend,” he insisted, and Iroh nodded. “But he is not going to leave here until we have Nini back, and if he never leaves here, we can never go home.”

Iroh took a teapot from an employee, and poured two cups before he responded. “So, we are obligated to assist in recovering Nini.” He took a sip of the steaming tea, and balked. “Blegh, this tea is nothing more than hot leaf juice!”

Zuko rolled his eyes, and was reminded yet again today that one of his eyes didn’t work right as the scar pulled tight against the movement. “Uncle, that’s what all tea is.”

Loudly, old Mushi complained, “How could a member of my own family say something so horrible?!” He stood with the teapot in one hand and started walking away, “There are going to be some changes around here. No teashop I frequent will serve tea like this.” He kept muttering until he was behind the counter, and then behind the curtain. “I’ll make the tea myself if I have to. This is outrageous.” Clattering pots and the furious clicking of sparkstones echoed out, just barely audible over the steady mutter of the crowd.

Eyes started to land on Zuko for his uncle’s outburst, and they lingered longer over his scar. With a grimace and a growl, he stood and stomped after his uncle. He was vividly aware that both of them were still in dirty, travel-worn clothes, now in the kitchen of a Middle Ring tea shop, even if it was on the low scale of things. The guard at the other table watched them go, sipping his tea. Zuko decided there was probably no way out through the kitchen, and swept aside the curtain.

“No, no, no, you see, you can’t just boil water and dump in tea leaves,” he heard his uncle explain, and finally spotted him in the very back, holding what had to be the head teamaker with one arm straight out, while using his other to reposition the teapot on a smaller fire. “The water has to be hot, but not boiling. Different teas need different fires.” He locked a commanding eye on another teamaker who had just returned from filling customers’ cups, with a half-full pot. “And you must remove the tea leaves once the tea has steeped long enough. Leaving them in the water scalds them and makes bitter tea.” The man looked at the pot in his hands, probably realizing that Iroh had guessed right and the tea leaves were still in the pot, before slamming the pot onto the counter with a glare and storming out.

Zuko sighed. He could either go along with it, and maybe have the chance to ask guests and patrons about Flying Bison sightings, or he could leave his uncle to it and get nothing from today. Either way, he would get no help from his uncle until this was done. He rubbed his hands together to get most of the dust off, and took the abandoned teapot to the washing basin.

Two hours later, the owner of the little shop flashed through the door and cried, “What is happening in my tea shop?!”

Zuko stood in an apron, pouring tea for a seated customer who was smiling and complimenting even the aroma of the tea. The woman stopped and turned to the owner, exclaiming, “Sir, your new employees are just phenomenal! The tea has never been better!”

Choruses of “Yeah,” and “Best tea in Ba Sing Se,” echoed from the other tables, even from the guard who was supposed to be watching Zuko and Iroh, and the owner settled down a bit. He still stomped, but more softly, to the kitchen to talk to Iroh. Mushi. Zuko had to remember that.

“I’m glad you like it,” Lee said to his customer. “Just out of curiosity,” he began, leaning a little closer, “have you seen anything like a Flying Bison? Like in the old pictures of Airbenders?”

The patron sipped her tea and hummed. “This is just delightful, young man.” She sipped again, agonizingly slowly, and then set her cup down. Lee dutifully refilled it. “No, I am sorry to say. I thought they were extinct.”

Lee smiled wide, hating the pull at his left eye but not letting it mar his expression. “That’s okay, ma’am, I was just curious. Thank you for the compliment, I’ll be sure to tell my uncle, Mushi.”

The shop owner left with an indignant huff, and Zuko smiled to himself. The guard suspected nothing, his uncle was happy, and he could continue to ask about Nini, all from right here. He took the main candle and lit it from one of the tea fires. It was getting dark outside, and the candles on the tables wouldn’t light themselves.

He must have asked dozens of people, high-class with fancy silk robes, merchants with patched overcoats, even a refugee family who had clearly been saving for a trip to a Middle Ring shop. No one had seen Nini. The sun had fully set behind the tall city walls by the time the number of customers started to dwindle. Even after weeks of walking, his feet ached from the rigors of working in a tea shop. When his uncle emerged from the kitchen to observe the darkening dining room, he stood behind the counter and nodded toward the far wall. “So did you get any good leads?”

Zuko looked over to see their escort guard, chin pressed to his chest, asleep at the table with a half-full cup of now-cooled tea on the table in front of him. The exiled prince smiled more genuinely than he had all day. Trust his uncle to know exactly what was going on. “Nothing useful, but this is the perfect place for it.” He took off his apron and laid it across the counter between them. “It’s only a matter of time before someone knows something.”

The shop owner came in a side door and glanced around at the spotless dining room, the few remaining customers draining their last cups, and Iroh and Zuko standing at the counter. He stepped behind them to check the income from the day, and whistled softly. “I don’t know where you two were hiding, but make sure you come back tomorrow, alright?” He sorted through the coins and withdrew a few. “Here, consider this a hiring bonus.” He set a handful of coins in each of their hands, careful not to drop a single piece. “Get some clean clothes, too. We do have a reputation to maintain. Now go. Shoo!”

He waved them out the door, with the groggy escort, and closed it behind them. Zuko gawked at his hand. In it, piled carefully, were five gold pieces. He had always been wealthy, until he had been dirt poor, but never, under any circumstances, had he been handed so much money to do with what he would. How much did good clothes even cost? His current rags had been three coppers, for the lot of them.

Iroh carefully stowed his handful of gold in an inside shirt pocket, and Zuko quickly followed suit. They would come back tomorrow, and they would find out something about Nini, guard or no guard. He wondered if Aang and the others had found anything useful. He started up the road, following the guard back to the Upper Ring for the night.


	36. City of Secrets

The young Prince padded softly down the velvet-carpeted hallway. He could hear the waves crashing on the beach outside the window. The cool nighttime breeze brought in the smells of salt, sand, and seaweed washed up on shore. His mother’s sweet voice floated through the halls, but he couldn’t quite make out what she said.

He stood before an elegant portrait of his family, his Mother holding him, his Father holding Azula. The crisp lines of the painter were more flattering than a mirror, but still Zuko recognized the little tuft of hair that had escaped his topknot that day. His gaze was drawn to the severe slant of his Father’s eyebrows, and he could feel the malice there. Had that been there before? The portrait’s head turned to glare at him, and the grimace turned to a scowl, then a sneer. The frame caught fire. Where had the fire come from? Now the canvas was burning, but not that face, not those hazel eyes. The fire was spreading to the drapes. It was catching the carpet. It would catch Zuko soon!

He ran, small feet and short legs pumping as fast as they could. He had to find Mom. She could keep him safe. But the flames were faster. They sprang up to engulf the door in front of him, so he turned to try another way, but all directions were walls. He was stuck in a tiny room with one door, and all of them were on fire! There was no escape!

Zuko woke with a start. He looked around in a rush, still feeling the echoes of danger. There was no fire. He was alone. There were soft sounds of footsteps outside the door, but here, in this room, he was alone. He lifted one hand, and had to close his left eye to see the creases and lines as clearly as he had seen the dream portrait. He sighed and let his head hang.

It was this place, these people. Too many people. All of them wanted to stare at his scar, everywhere he went, always. It had been so long in the wilds, with just his uncle, or just Aang and the others, he had forgotten the stares of pity and mistrust he had faced when they went to cities. It had apparently brought back the nightmares. He almost wanted to find some cactus juice. He shook his head. No, that wasn’t the way.

He stood and went to the washbasin by the window. The cold water felt nice, and the cool breeze that ruffled the closed drapes smelled like stone and grass. He had a job to do here, and not just for the tea shop. Aang and the others had found nothing. In fact, they were fairly certain, when Joo Dee was out of earshot, that she was the reason they had received such a sour reception. Zuko and his uncle were in the only position to ask questions without being shadowed by an agent of the King. No, he remembered, the Dai Li. That was one bit of information the others had been able to get from a neighbor, after Joo Dee had left for the night. And according to Aang, the spirit of Avatar Kyoshi was pissed about it.

He summoned a small flame in his palm. He was in control. The flame flickered left when he told it to. It spun right when he told it to. Fire couldn’t hurt him, unless it was someone else’s. And he was the only Firebender here. Finally, his heart started to slow. He snuffed out the flame and opened his door.

Aang and Iroh were deep in an early-morning game of Pai Sho in one corner of the large main room. Toph lounged near the breakfast buffet that had probably been delivered in the last hour or so, based on the steam still rising from the warm buns. Sokka was stretching his arms in the room opposite Zuko. Katara had just retrieved the mail that had been carefully placed in a small bronze bin by the door. She unrolled an intricate, official-looking scroll, and quickly turned to the rest of the group. “I got it! I know how we’re going to see the Earth King.”

Aang looked up from the table, but Toph spoke first. “How are we supposed to do that?” She pitched her voice and held up a snooty finger to mimic Joo Dee, “One doesn’t just pop in on the Earth King!”

Katara held out the paper. “The King is having a party at the palace tonight for his pet bear.”

Aang raised an eyebrow. “You mean, platypusbear?”

The Waterbender shook her head. “No, it just says ‘bear.’”

“Certainly you mean his pet skunkbear,” offered Iroh without taking his eyes off the game.

Toph piped up, “Or his armadillobear.”

Zuko chimed in with, “Gopherbear?”

“Just… bear,” she held firm, but stared in bewilderment at the announcement in her hands, like she couldn’t believe it herself. After a few heartbeats of silence, she brought them back to her point. “The palace will be packed. We can sneak in with the crowd!”

“We may not even have to sneak,” offered Aang, finally standing from the table. “I used to stay with the matriarch of the Yum Soon Han family back when she was young. She may be able to extend us an invite.” He smiled. “I’d love to know how Kelsang is doing.”

Iroh turned away from his tiles and nodded. “I wasn’t expecting the tea shop to be such a good source, but it turned out to be simply perfect. I think we should go back and learn what we can, maybe about more than just Nini, too.”

Aang smiled brightly at the old Firebender. “Just make sure to tell that tea leaf joke. You really shouldn’t keep that to yourself.”

That got a chortle from Iroh, and a groan from Zuko. He didn’t even remember it well, but he remembered that it was as cheesy as any pun. “Uncle, we should get moving, if we’re going to get new clothes before the shop opens.”

A knock at the door announced the arrival of their escorts for the day, and the end of any meaningful conversation. To the guard’s credit, he was able to take Zuko and Iroh to a very talented tailor, and their fine cotton robes only cost two gold each. The weight of multiple layers of fabric was uncomfortable after so many months of travel, and Zuko grimaced to himself. There had been a time he had felt almost naked without layers of red silk and heavy armored shoulder spikes.

They got to the shop’s door just before the owner, and he huffed happily at their new finery before letting them inside. Iroh immediately made for the kitchen to light the fires and get the first pots brewing, while Zuko set out the chairs and wiped down the tabletops. He was pleased to note that, like yesterday, the guard who was supposed to escort them instead sat himself at a table on the edge of the room. Lazy. He was shirking his duties. It would have been shameful if it didn’t also help Zuko’s plan immensely.

“Have you seen the sparkstones?” called Iroh, Mushi, from the kitchen. “I swear I set them right here yesterday.” Muffled clattering and scraping filled the air as he searched.

Zuko, Lee, sighed and rolled his eyes. He padded around the counter and through the curtain to the back. “I think I saw a spare set up here,” he said, reaching for a tall cabinet by the arched door. His hands brushed bare wood, back and forth. Had he been mistaken? But then, he found them, pushed to the back by the pots that were stored in the same cabinet at night. “Here they are.”

“Thank you.” Mushi took the sparkstones and lit the first fire with a series of sharp clicks. “There we go. That’s better.”

There was a light shuffle of fabric just outside the doors, and Lee stepped out to the counter to greet the first customer, but no one was there. Must have been a bird. He tied up his apron and grabbed a broom.

Now that he knew what he was looking for, the dark, almost black green robes of the Dai Li were easy to spot. He served their tea with the same polite smile as anyone else, but he kept his mouth firmly shut about Nini while one was near. Otherwise, there was just one older customer who thought he remembered a really fast cloud passing by overhead about a week ago, and maybe that had really been a Flying Bison? Lee let out a dry laugh. A six-ton bison was not a cloud. He refilled the man’s cup with ginseng tea and went back for the pot of peppermint.

Dinner was a heaping platter of grilled meat from the adjoining shop, and Zuko snuck a pinch of cayenne pepper onto it before he and Iroh sat down to eat. The heat of the spice and the hearty meal after a long day of fake smiles and fruitless questions was a balm to his frazzled mind. Customers were starting to file out again, and sunset was always an exhausting time for a Firebender, so he took his time with this little respite.

He heard a new customer come through the door, and set aside his empty plate with more regret than he cared to admit.

“I’m tired of waiting! He’s a Firebender!”

Zuko’s eyes snapped up, and Jet’s furious gaze froze him in his tracks for a few seconds. How had he found them? He didn’t know about his uncle. Was there a way out of this without being arrested and hauled off to Ba Sing Se’s dungeons? Did Ba Sing Se even have dungeons?

One of the customers, a young Wall Guard in a light-olive uniform, stood with a hand extended. “Look at who you’re talking about, son. He’s been burned by Firebenders.” The gutcheck of the scar mention was almost overshadowed by the obvious and incorrect link the guard had made in his favor.

Jet stepped forward, unphased. “I saw you in that explosion,” he growled, shoving a finger into Zuko’s face. “Four barrels of blasting jelly. The only way you survive that is if you’re a Firebender.” He stepped back and drew his hookswords. “Show them!”

Zuko’s escort, the Palace Guard in his highly-decorated emerald uniform, stood and stepped between Zuko and Jet. “Put down the swords, kid.”

No. Zuko had to deal with this, or the forest urchin would never give up. Tenacity had gotten him everywhere in the past, he would not give this up without a fight. He pressed on his escort’s side, moving him out of the line of fire, and took the dual swords he had sheathed at his hip. The twin steel felt good in his hands.”You want a show?” he taunted. “I’ll give you a show.” He could not, under any circumstances, Firebend. Not even heat or smoke. Nothing. He spun the swords to get their weight, and waited for Jet to give him the advantage.

He didn’t have to wait long. Jet was incensed. The boy charged, swinging wildly, angrily. Zuko dodged, tapping the sides of the hooks with the flats of his blades like no more than straw in the wind. The exiled Prince dragged a table out into the walkway and kicked it in Jet’s direction to knock him off balance. Jet leapt over it and hooked another with one sword to send it flying toward Zuko. An easy leap took him above it, and he planted his feet on the stone tabletop. Now he had the advantage.

From the high ground, Zuko leapt over the hooks rather than parrying them, instead using his swings to push Jet backward toward the door. The forest urchin dodged swings at his shoulders and chest, and finally backstepped. Zuko leapt forward, and landed a kick square on his chest. He was glad the door was open.

Jet flew out the door and landed sprawling in the street. Zuko followed him out. “Are you done yet?”

“Not even close,” the boy growled and stood. He set his feet, squared his shoulders, and charged again. Zuko parried both hooks with one sword, and forced Jet to bend over backward to avoid a slice from the other. It was the first truly threatening strike Zuko had made, and his intent translated into the tiniest bit of flame just flickering at the tip of the blade. He had put too much energy into the swing.

He backed off, and hoped no one had seen the shimmer on the blade shine just a little too bright. But Jet had seen. It had been inches from his eyes. “You see that?!” he exclaimed, pointing a hooksword at Zuko’s chest. “The Fire Nation is trying to silence me!”

“What’s going on here?” The gruff voice emerged from the shadows of a nearby alleyway, accompanying two dark-robed forms with formal shield-hats. Dai Li agents.

Zuko stood back with the easy deference of someone born around nobility. He took stock of the audience that had gathered, his uncle in particular standing at the door of the tea shop, and his Palace Guard escort hovering at the edge of the conflict. He saw the citizens of the Middle Ring part to make way for the supposed Cultural Protectors.

Jet didn’t make the connection that these people were to be avoided. He jabbed a hooksword at Zuko and called, “That guy’s a Firebender!”

“Is this true?” The voice was cold, calculating, and sent a chill of familiarity through the exiled Prince.

The teashop owner spoke up, and Zuko was perfectly willing to let him. “This young man attacked one of my best employees!”

The escort guard added, “It’s true, sir. I saw the whole thing.” Sir. An elite Palace Guard, tasked with accompanying honored guests of the city, called this Dai Li grunt ‘sir.’

Zuko kept his mouth shut. He knew full well what would happen now. As long as he didn’t open his mouth and say something stupid, they would believe the Palace Guard. He backed up two full steps as they passed and approached Jet. “Come with us.”

Jet screeched in indignant fury. “But he’s a Firebender! I saw it!” The Dai Li bound his hands behind him. “You have to believe me!”

“It’s time to go now,” that gruff voice said, and Zuko still couldn’t tell which agent it came from. They dragged Jet down the alley, kicking and screaming. The boy’s cries faded slowly, and the crowd of onlookers slowly dispersed with it. It seemed like everyone wanted to see the commotion, but no one wanted to interfere.

The rest of the night at the tea shop was surreal. There were more people at the tables, more compliments echoing from every corner of the room, and Zuko didn’t feel any of it. His hands had just the slightest tremor of adrenaline as he filled teacups. The shop owner made a comment about a raise, and Zuko gave a blank smile. And to his great relief, people stopped staring with apprehension at his scar when they thought he wasn’t looking.

An hour later, when he and his uncle were arriving back at the Upper Ring house with their escort, he kept looking to his uncle for guidance. What had just happened? How would it affect them? Would it affect Aang and the others? Had they managed to find anything at the party? He had so many questions, and knew he would get no answers until everyone was home and Joo Dee had left.

They turned a corner, and saw the house, and Joo Dee standing on the porch with her trademark vapid smile. But something was different. Did she cut her hair shorter? Zuko noticed a pause in his uncle’s steps that he quickly hid. Something was wrong.

Zuko squinted forward at Joo Dee. Her hair was definitely shorter. And her skin was darker. And her nose was longer. That wasn’t Joo Dee. But the guard walked forward as if nothing was amiss, so Zuko kept a straight face and walked past without comment.

Zuko sat in the main room, and they all waited in sullen silence for the unwelcome ears to depart. Finally, when the group was alone in the house, Aang opened his eyes and glared at the door. “We are being coerced.”


	37. The Tales of Ba Sing Se

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the same stories as the show, with one notable exception. But they are also deep-dives into the different characters, and were an experience to write.

**The Tale of Zuko**

Another day, another customer, another pot of tea. Zuko was sick of tea. Supposedly, there were Dai Li agents watching their every move. He hadn’t seen one yet. But at least the Palace Guard that Joo Dee had insisted should escort them, never showed up the next morning.

It had been a week now. Seven days since Aang had told them of the Dai Li’s control of the city, their use of the King as a figurehead, their threat to bar the whole group from the city if anyone so much as mentioned the War. Seven days since Aang had taken the task of finding Nini entirely on himself, to protect the others from the wrath of Long Feng. He promised he could move more quickly alone. It had been a week.

Zuko had Lee’s placid smile etched onto his face, but he watched intently for anything unusual. If anyone else guessed he was a Firebender, or if the Dai Li caught a whiff of suspicion, he had to be able to react. So he watched one customer in particular closely.

She was a younger woman, maybe a tad older than Zuko’s, what, fifteen or sixteen now? It was hard to tell days when there were no people around, and he hadn’t had a chance to check the date since they arrived in Ba Sing Se. Did the Earth Kingdom even use the same calendar as the Fire Nation? He honestly had no idea, and it wasn’t like he could just ask anybody…

This girl, woman, whatever, she had come here for the last three days, and then before that a couple of scattered times. She always sat in that corner, and she always kept glancing at Zuko when she thought he wasn’t looking. Her short hair framed her wide, innocent-looking eyes, and her cheeks kept blushing when he caught her staring, like she was aware that she shouldn’t be noticed but maybe just wasn’t trained too well in stealth yet.

Zuko stepped closer to his uncle, who was on a short ladder to restock the rare teas on the top shelf behind the counter, and surreptitiously hissed, “Uncle, we have a problem.” The old man stepped down closer to him and leaned an ear just slightly in his direction, the only indication Zuko would get that he had been heard. “One of the customers is onto us. Don’t look now, but there is a girl over there at the corner table.” He pointedly turned his back on the table and retrieved a cleaning rag from under the counter. “She’s either really bad Dai Li, or she knows we’re Firebenders.”

Iroh leaned past his nephew’s shoulder and looked at the table and the girl. Zuko pulled the old man’s shoulder around and hissed, more loudly, “Didn’t I say don’t look?!”

But Uncle had a goofy little smile on his face. “You’re right, Zuko,” he whispered, and the younger Firebender wished he had used their fake names. “I’ve seen that girl in here quite a lot. Seems to me she has quite a little crush on you.”

“What?” It was a few seconds before Zuko processed what his uncle had just said. The threat was… a crush? But he was scarred. Ugly. And a Firebender. Surely something about him was just universally repulsive. It was to him when he looked in a mirror.

The girl padded meekly up to the counter with her payment, and Zuko had to turn to accept it. He was still working. He took the coins and set them to the side, as she ducked her head just slightly and murmured, “Thank you for the tea. What’s your name?”

Zuko saw his uncle smile suggestively, and turned away from him to face the girl. “M-my name’s Lee.” He berated himself for the stutter, and put more confidence behind the next words. “My uncle and I just moved here.”

She smiled wide. “Hi Lee, my name’s Jin. Thank you, and, well…” she hid her hands behind her back, “I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime.”

No. No no, absolutely not. Why? That was as bad of an idea as it was an uncomfortable one. And what in all the world did she see in him?

Zuko almost fell sideways when his uncle clapped his hand on the back of Zuko’s shoulder and said, “He’d love to!”

A huge smile spread across Jin’s face, and she almost danced on her way toward the door. “Great! I’ll meet you in front of the shop at sundown.”

And then she was gone, and Iroh was hugging him. The exiled Prince realized his mouth was hanging open, and he closed it firmly to glare at his uncle. Now he was honor-bound to go. Surely the old man knew what kind of risk this was. But he just handed Zuko another pot and turned back to the kitchen.

For a while, Zuko fumed, but the day was long and the job was not easy. By the time the sun was starting to set, he had somewhat come to terms with the idea of going on a date. A date! So much could go wrong. What if she actually was a spy? This wasn’t the observation method he would have chosen, but clearly it was working.

His uncle had instructed him to sit in the kitchen, now that there were fewer customers, and had been slowly combing his hair. Zuko was a little uncomfortable with the notion that he had hair long enough to comb, but more than that, no one touched his head. Iroh was careful not to get too close to the edges of his scar where it reached his ear and changed his hairline. Still, Zuko had to fight the urge to squirm away or flinch any time his hand got too close.

Eventually, with one final pat to settle the hair down over as much of the scar as it would cover, Iroh proclaimed, “There, that should do.”

Zuko stood quickly, and took care not to disturb his hair when he took off his apron. He was glad of the new, clean clothes now. He didn’t think he could speak without stammering in his anxiety, so he nodded crisply to his uncle and stepped out the door into the cool dusk.

He looked around and sighed in relief. Jin wasn’t there. Out of habit, he checked the shadows for Dai Li agents, found none, and had taken half a step back toward the door, when he heard footsteps approaching from one of the alleyways across the street. Had he missed one of the Dai Li? Was it someone else, a mugger? His eyes flashed over the shadow. They had no idea who they were dealing with.

Jin emerged into the light of the main street and smiled. “Hey!” She waved and strode right up to Zuko’s face. “Well, look at you,” she chuckled and reached up without hesitation to ruffle his hair.

He flinched. He couldn’t help it. The moment of confusion in her eyes had him scrambling for an excuse, and he stammered, “It took my uncle ten minutes to do my hair.” He brushed the untidy locks back down over his left ear a few times.

His explanation had been enough for Jin, who grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down the street, giggling and pointing out the lights on certain buildings, most of them behind stained-glass windows that sent bright shafts of color into the street. If she was a spy, she was really selling her cover. He was confident now that she didn’t think he was a Firebender.

The restaurant was nice. Upscale, Middle Ring, plenty of wandering eyes from other guests when the waiter had called Jin Zuko’s girlfriend. He had felt awkward enough that he couldn’t finish his meatballs. They weren’t spiced to his taste anyway. But she had eaten well, and then had talked him into a corner about his past, and made him try to juggle at the table. When everything inevitably came crashing to the table again, he rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled, “I haven’t practiced in awhile. I’m better with a tsungi horn anyway…”

“It’s alright,” she said, and Zuko thought she might be genuinely trying to comfort him. Who was this girl? “Hey, I want to show you one of my favorite places in the city.” Like a whirling dervish, she had pulled him to his feet, and Zuko barely had time to leave two gold pieces on the table before they were running down the street again. “I’m so excited for you to see the Firelight Fountain,” she gushed as they wound through the city’s twisting alleys and crowded nighttime thoroughfares. “The lamps make the water sparkle and reflect in the pool in the most beautiful way.”

They rounded the last corner, and Jin stopped. Her smile slowly faded. Before them was a wide open courtyard with evenly-spaced flagstones, elegantly-placed flowering plants in pots around the edge, and a magnificent three-tiered fountain taking the honor of the central space. The soft gurgle of water filled the area, but all around, on tall candle lantern posts, the candles sat cold. “I can’t believe it,” she stared in disbelief. “They aren’t lit!”

She sounded genuinely pained that the beauty of the place was missing, and Zuko felt a pang of sympathy. He could have lit them for her, but it would take too long by hand. But she didn’t suspect him of being a Firebender. And she wasn’t a Dai Li spy. She really had just wanted to show him nice things and have dinner. Maybe he could show her this thing. He would be careful. 

“Close your eyes, and don’t peek,” he said, careful not to command but only to implore. She met his eyes, full of curiosity, but he raised his eyebrows at her, and she let out a small giggle before covering her eyes with her fingers. Zuko gently took her hands and made sure her palms were over her eyes instead, and then stepped away.

This was dangerous. He stood straight, balanced, and checked every shadow twice for Dai Li before he made any move past that. Then, he took a sharp breath, and felt the energy flow through his limbs. Precision was needed here. It was actually helpful that the sun had set hours ago. He pointed his fingers and sent a pinpoint of fire to light the nearest candle, watching how it reacted. He could release the flame immediately after the wick had ignited. That way there was nothing else in danger. He pointed at the next one. Then the next. In a flurry of sharp thrusts of his hands, the candles lit, one by one, and the courtyard filled with their warm glow.

He stood straight again, and relaxed his shoulders from his martial stance. “Okay, now you can look.”

Jin’s hands dropped from in front of her eyes, and the lights of the candles sparkled there instead. “Oh, wow.” She looked at him for a moment, but quickly looked back to the beautiful lights reflecting in the fountain. “What happened? How did they light? What did you…”

She trailed off, and he just smiled at her. Any of those answers would just upset her joy in this moment. The moment he had made for her. He turned, shoulder to shoulder, and watched the shimmering fountain with her. She was right; it was beautiful. Zuko was reminded of a fireworks festival from long ago, when he had ended up standing beside Mai, and her hand had just brushed his before Azula dragged her off to play. Now, Jin’s hand brushed his, and her fingers found his, and they stood in the light of the candles.

He turned to look at her, and she was looking back at him. They were so close. “Oh, I’ve brought you something,” he said, and she backed up a couple of inches while he rummaged in his pockets for the slip of paper his uncle had put there earlier. It seemed okay now, to give it to her. “It’s a coupon for a free cup of tea.”

She smiled and squinted in that way girls did when they thought something was adorable. Zuko never thought to see it directed at him. “Lee, this is so sweet.”

He took a few steps back, rubbing his neck again. He really should stop doing that. He let his hand fall back to his side. “Don’t thank me - it was my uncle’s idea.” He thought he sounded pathetic, but it was the only thing he could think to say. “He thinks you’re our most valued customer.”

“Your uncle is a good teacher,” she crooned, putting the coupon away in a pocket. Her voice picked up a playful tone. “I have something for you, too. Now it’s your turn to close your eyes.”

He did as she said. What could she have for him that would need to be a surprise li- oh. She had kissed him. But she was pulling away; come back! He reached out for her and kissed her again. His heart fluttered, and heat rose into his cheeks.

No. This was too much. It was still a bad idea, just like it had been earlier. He pushed himself away. This just- this couldn’t happen. He had a destiny to fulfil, and he was pretty sure this wasn’t it.

“What’s wrong?” Jin sounded so worried and hurt, standing behind him at the edge of the glimmering courtyard.

Zuko stopped, and thought for a bit before he turned around. But the best he could come up with on the spot was, “It’s complicated. I have to go.” He watched her face fall, the joy of this place broken by his actions. He had just been trying to make her happy. But this is what happened in times like this. It couldn’t be helped. He turned and walked.

Iroh was still awake at the Upper Ring house, sipping tea while he waited for Zuko. The exiled Prince pushed through the door and turned sharply toward his room.

“How was your night, Prince Zuko?”

The younger Firebender stepped through his door and slammed it behind him. It had been Iroh’s plan to do this at all. No, that wasn’t fair. Zuko had been high-strung, worried about eyes in every shadow, and suspicious of this young Earth Kingdom girl who just wanted to show him some fun. And she had. And it had been relaxing, until the last bit.

He eased his door open just a crack and made sure his uncle saw him. “It was nice.”

~+~+~+~+~+~

**The Tale of Aang**

Aang had seen so much suffering in the last week. He had been to every hellhole, meat market, black market, Lower Ring auctionhouse, and pelt dealer in the Eastern half of Ba Sing Se. Still nothing.

He let the air currents around his glider slow and lower him to the street. In the air, he could be absolutely certain he was not followed. But, as he was reminded when his feet touched the paved street, the Dai Li were all over the city. He could feel one of them through the earth, clinging to the wall of an alley two streets up and one over. But he could also sense his goal.

Kyoshi remembered a quaint little zoo near here, and sure enough, Aang could sense cages and creatures just up the way. He closed his glider and slung the silk strap over his shoulder, careful to avoid the more recent scars. Better get going. No time like the present.

He rounded a corner, and his heart fell. Nini had not been here. The energy of the place had never seen a spiritual creature like a Flying Bison. But maybe there was something here he was meant to do. He stepped softly forward, careful to keep his robes from billowing too wide and spooking the animals in the cages he passed. The tigerdillo in the back caught his eye. It was growling and biting the bars of the cage, more out of desperation than anger. He knelt in front of the cage and spoke soothingly, holding out a gentle hand. “Hey there, fella. You look hungry.”

The creature met his eyes for a few seconds, then roared and retreated to the back corner of its little enclosure.

“They are hungry,” said someone behind him, and he sensed an older man, thin, probably hungry himself, sweeping the dust from the pathway with a battered straw broom. Aang stood and turned to greet the man with a smile, and waited for the recognition. Without fail, the man looked first at the orange robes, then the blue tattoos, then the glider staff, and his eyes went wide. “You’re the Avatar!”

Aang smiled wide and stepped forward to shake the man’s hand. “Aang, please. What’s your name?”

“Kenji,” he breathed, awestruck.

Aang took Kenji by the shoulders and led him on a stroll through his zoo. “Tell me, Kenji, what do you need?”

After a few protestations and Aang’s insistence, Kenji finally said, “The Dai Li won’t give me any money because the kids stopped coming.” He looked around at his animals, and Aang could sense the slowed heartbeat and ragged breathing of his sorrow. “And the kids won’t come because my zoo’s nasty and broke.”

Aang spotted a hunched creature in a small enclosure, and couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was called. “Kenji,” he asked, “what kind of animal is that?”

The Zookeeper looked over and explained, “Oh, that’s a rabaroo.” He sighed. “I wish I could get her a big open prairie like she likes.” His voice trailed off into despair. “I’d let her hop away to happiness.”

That’s it then. That’s what Aang could do here. “Let’s do it.”

“Say again?”

Aang looked into Kenji’s eyes and smiled. “There’s a big open space right outside the lower wall of the city.” He projected the hope he felt, and he could see it ringing a smile to Kenji’s face.

“But,” the old Zookeeper worried, “how’re you gonna transport all these wild critters?”

He was the Avatar. It would work. “Don’t worry,” he grinned. “I’m great with animals.”

Less than five minutes later, chaos had ensued, and with gusto. The hogmonkeys were breaking pottery, the elephantmandrill was charging headlong at carts and shops, and the dragonflies were pulling on peoples’ hair as they tried to flee. Aang spotted the rabaroo about to take a bite from a cabbage, and the cabbage merchant cowering behind his cart. He swooped low on his glider and pushed the bouncy critter away from the vegetables. With a nod to the merchant, he leapt back into the sky on his glider.

Now a platypusbear was growling and swiping at people. The tigerdillo was just running as fast as it could, the poor thing. Aang sent a wave of air to separate the dragonflies from their assumed targets. “This was so much easier in my head.” He had imagined just leading them down the street to the gate, and asking the guard to open up. Maye if he whistled a tune?

Oh! He had it! The bison whistle! He landed in the street to stand in front of the stampeding elephantmandrill, and stopped it with a downward wall of air. He patted its nose. “Now then,” he bubbled, and reached into his pocket for the ultrasonic whistle. The humans wouldn’t hear it, the spirits wouldn’t care, but the animals, they couldn’t ignore it. He took a deep breath, using Airbending to compress and stack more air into his lungs. This needed to be a big one.

He set the whistle to his lips and blew. The high sound of air through the shaped wood was all he could hear, but he could feel the buzz in the air that meant it was working. The elephantmandrill tossed its head at him. The platypusbear dropped to all fours and ambled his way. The dragonflies left off their pursuit of shiny hairpieces and turned to face him. It was working now.

With one hand to the whistle, he spun up an air scooter with the other and hopped on. He had to stay street-level or they would lose him and go back to their antics. He made for the wall, weaving in and out of alleys and back roads, avoiding major streets as much as he could. He knew he had a natural disaster in tow. He just had to get them all out the gate, and he could build their new enclosures around them.

Finally, there was no other street to take than the main one that led through the gate. He turned his scooter onto the open road, and was pleased to see all the creatures following as quickly as they could. There was a little turtleseal lagging behind a bit, but that was okay. He could wait for her once the others had their new homes.

But the gate wasn’t open yet.

Aang spotted Kenji arguing with the gate guards, and saw him point at the incoming onslaught of animals. The guard’s face paled, and he shouted the order. It was too late. Aang would just have to help them fix the wall on his way back inside. The massive stone gate slid away, and Aang and a few of the smaller animals made it through just fine, but the elephantmandrill ploughed through the too-small space and sheared almost three feet of stone from each side.

Now, it was mostly Earthbending. Aang put away his whistle and used the air scooter to move faster than the creatures, corralling them into groups with friendly creatures and separating the predators into their own spaces. He drove his fists upward and kept moving, raising high walls between the groups of animals, and then went pen by pen to customize the type of terrain each one might like. Most of these animals he had seen in their natural habitats over the years, so it didn’t take much imagination to get the perfect fit.

Lastly, he stopped and stood in the middle, reaching with Waterbending deep underground for a source of water. A spring, underground river, an aquifer, anything would do. When he found the aquifer that provided the Lower Ring with water, he switched back to Earthbending, breaking passages from the water to the surface, one in each enclosure. Soon, there were lakes and fountains aplenty, and the turtleseal in particular was squealing and splashing around with excitement. He smiled.

He sensed Kenji approaching behind him and turned that smile to him. “Well, Mr. Zookeeper, how do you like your new facilities?”

Kenji smiled back for the first time. “Excellent job, Avatar Aang. You should think about working with animals for a living.”

A voice from one of the pens caught Aang’s attention, and he turned to see a housecat in the pen with the elephantmandrill. The voice was a child. “Mommy, Miss Snowflake got out of the house again.”

“Fluffykins?” came another voice, an adult now, looking at another cat in one of the pens. “What are you doing down there?”

Kenji laughed and elbowed Aang in the side. “On second thought, you might want to stick to saving people!” Aang smiled and returned the elbow. Next was the wall repairs. Then he could find the next place to search for Nini.

~+~+~+~+~+~

**The Tale of Toph**

Toph sensed everything, even in her sleep. So she knew that the others were up and getting ready for the day. She just didn’t give a fuck. She turned over and focused on the ants crawling up the outside of the wall.

The sound of the door swinging open brought her attention back, as Katara stepped into her room. “Toph! Aren’t you gonna get ready for the day?” The twitch in her muscles and shock in her voice said that Toph probably looked about how she felt.

The Earthbender rolled out from under her dusty blankets. The dust made them easier to see. She stood, pounded her sleeping dress to release the dust back into the blankets, spat into the spittoon in the corner of the room, and almost laughed out loud at the hitch in Katara’s breath and the backward step. “I’m ready.”

“You’re not gonna wash up? You’ve got a little dirt on your… everywhere, actually.”

Toph gave a crooked smile. “You call it dirt, I call it a healthy coating of earth!” It always felt better to have some earth nearby, even if it was just dust. If more people left the dust on their clothes, she might have a better idea of what they all looked like. But no one really understood that.

Katara hummed, and mused, “You know what we need?” The girly excitement in her voice was worrisome. “A girl’s day out!”

Toph screwed up her face into what she thought was a grimace. “Do I have to?”

“It’ll be fun!”

Katara was in a mood. And really, there was nothing better to do. So, grudgingly, Toph tied back her hair to keep it from tickling her face, and put on the only clothes she had ever really been herself in, the Blind Bandit outfit she had brought with her from home.

The spa where Katara decided to take her smelled awful. Scented soaps, lotions, the smell of the perfumes and mineral make-up powder were so thick in the air that it actually made Toph cough when they entered.

Like most buildings in this city, the sign above the waiting room counter was also made of stone, but the shapes were unreadable. She had only recently asked Aang to start carving letters and numbers out of earth, so she could learn to read, but these were so frilly and misshapen, they were nothing but gibberish.

Katara translated, though she was only trying to show off the choice of locale. “The Fancy Lady Day Spa!” She spread her arms wide, as if presenting the glamour of the lobby for Toph’s approval.

Toph just scowled. “Sounds like my kind of place.”

Instead of letting her go, Katara just got more animated. “Are you ready for some serious pampering?” She said it like it was the most desirable thing in the world.

The younger girl was unconvinced. “Sure, Katara,” she smarmed, “whatever you say.” Then, with purpose and hope that the staff would hear it too, she said, “As long as they don’t touch my feet!”

So what was the first thing they did? TOUCH HER FUCKING FEET! There sat Katara, all calm and pleased with herself, in the heated chair with one foot resting in the spa employee’s hands. But Toph? She fought like hell. Every scrape of the pumice stone felt like a full-fledged earthquake, and with each layer of dirt and callous removed, the sensation got stronger. When the ordeal finally got bad enough to make her actually flinch and bite her tongue, she punched the woman holding her arms and sent her flying on a platform of rock up and out the door of the room.

They gave up on her feet after that, but still, every vibration felt so clear. Everything popped, like that bird snatching up a worm down the road was actually right here beside her, pulling the worm from under her toes. At least for the mud bath, they left her alone with Katara in the next tub over. Being surrounded by mud was the perfect thing to bring her blood pressure back down. And scaring away the attendant by Earthbending the mud into a silly face was just icing on the cake.

And the sauna wasn’t bad, either. Just the two of them, hot rocks and water, they were in their element. Literally. Neither of them even had to stand up to add rocks or water to the center table. It was nice to have a friend. A real friend. Katara was just as powerful as she was, and unlike all of Toph’s former wrestling acquaintances, the Waterbender genuinely didn’t care that Toph was twelve, or blind, or more of a badass than any other Earthbender alive.

So when they got around to choosing make-up and perfume, Toph let Katara decide. Why not? It wouldn’t matter to the Earthbender, and it would make the older girl happy to help Toph look “pretty.”

By the time they left, Toph felt like she could sense the whole city, and like the whole city could smell her. But still, she did feel… lighter. Like being here with just Katara, no Aang or Zuko with their big talk of Destiny, no Iroh with his sage words of deep wisdom, like being away from it all gave her some space to move past the things that haunted her dreams. Leaving her parents. Both times. The oppression of sensing everything and pretending not to. The daily terror that at some point, Aang would realize he didn’t need her anymore either, and he would leave her. He didn’t seem the type to do that, and he had said already that he would never, but still the fear plagued her.

But she had found it was easy to prevent others from feeling that uncertainty. She nudged Katara’s arm, which knocked the older girl a few inches to the side, and said, “Well, that wasn’t so bad. I’m not usually into that stuff, but I actually feel… girly.”

She felt Katara’s heartbeat pick up just a bit, and heard the happy waver in her voice. “I’m glad. It’s about time we did something fun together.” The sound of water and the soft drifting of river pebbles was soothing as the two friends crossed a short bridge in the road. They passed a group of three young girls going the other way, but Toph was beside Katara, and that meant, for once, that she didn’t have to watch every approaching footstep, or be prepared to defend herself, verbally or physically. She could share that responsibility.

“Wow, great make-up,” said one of the passing girls. And Toph smiled. She had to admit, as much as her looks didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, or at all to her in particular, the compliment was heartwarming. “For a clown.”

That bitch didn’t know who she was messing with. Toph stopped on the stone bridge and grounded her senses. The three prissy girls laughed, heartbeats steady and even, and walked slowly away, confident that their insult would go unanswered.

Katara tried to console Toph, with an arm over her shoulders. “Don’t listen to them,” she crooned. “Let’s just keep walking.”

But that’s what Toph had done for ten years. Then she had become the Blind Bandit. She had become untouchable. She could feel the excitement in the prissy girls as they saw the little blind girl’s reactions. They wanted to get a rise out of her. She wondered how far they would take it. And that excited her.

“I think she looks cute,” said a second voice from the group, “like that time we put a sweater on your pet poodlemonkey.” Followed by tittering laughter.

“Good one, Star.” That was the third voice. They all had it coming.

Katara pulled gently on Toph’s shoulder, heart racing with anger, but still she said, “Let’s go, Toph.”

“No, no, that was a good one,” said the little blind girl, and she turned to face the girls where she knew they stood. That was always unsettling to sighted people. She’d heard her eyes described as milky and blank. She fixed the dead orbs on the leader of the bitches, and felt her heart jump. “Like your poodlemonkey,” Toph laughed with dry, cutting sarcasm, and all of their hearts danced with unease. “You know what else is a good one?”

She moved the earth beneath their feet. A circle of rock spun to separate from the rest of the flagstones, and then fell freely into the river below. Toph wasn’t sure how deep the river was, but there was a satisfying splash as the girls hit the surface.

Katara stepped up to the hole and leaned over. “Now that was funny.” She waved her arms in a wide circle, and Toph heard the screams and cries of the girls fade into the distance. That was that then. This had been truly pointless. Toph started walking toward the Upper Ring house again.

Her friend jogged to catch up with her, and huffed, “Those girls don’t know what they’re talking about.” But Toph could feel the lie.

“It’s okay,” she said. “One of the good things about being blind, is I don’t have to waste my time worrying about appearance.” She settled back into her protective state of not giving a shit. “I don’t care what I look like. I’m not looking for anyone’s approval. I know who I am.” But that wasn’t quite true. It was nice to have approval sometimes. And she’d had quite a bit of it recently, travelling with the merry gang of rebels. She couldn’t quite hold back the tears, knowing now with such certainty that she would only get that in this group of people. No one else could be trusted.

Katara spoke softly, and stood close to Toph’s shoulder. “That’s what I really admire about you, Toph. You’re so strong, and confident, and self-assured.” And now there was no lie in her heartbeat. “And I know it doesn’t matter, but,” she put a hand on the little Earthbender’s shoulder, “you’re really pretty.”

“I am?”

The Waterbender smiled, and Toph could sense it through her hand and the thin layer of mineral powder on her cheeks. “Yeah, you are.” No lie.

Toph smiled back and the two started walking again. Maybe the day wasn’t totally pointless. “I’d return the compliment,” Toph started, letting her sarcasm come back, “but I have no idea what you look like.” Katara laughed, and Toph knew her friend understood. “Thank you, Katara.” She punched the older girl’s shoulder.

~+~+~+~+~+~

**The Tale of Iroh**

Happy birthday, my son.

Leaves from the vine

Falling so slow

Like fragile tiny shells

Drifting in the foam

Little soldier boy

Come marching home

Brave soldier boy

Comes marching home

Ahh, I am sorry it has taken me this long to come and see you. A lot has happened since we last spoke. I was… inconsolable… when we got the report…

If I had been in any position to find you, I would have. You know that. You never wanted to be a part of Sozin’s war, and it took a very long time for me to learn how not to blame myself for every ounce of pain you suffered.

I tried to find you. In the Spirit World. Knowing what I know now, you probably weren’t there at all, but it gave me something to do, and I think in the long run, it taught me about the nature of the world. You were right, of course. We are all the same, we are all just people struggling to find our place in this vast, unknowable existence. Ha ha, hahh, I’m a little ashamed that it took me that long to understand that.

When I came back, I had no throne. Your uncle Ozai had been named Fire Lord in my absence. And I knew, like you knew and had tried to warn me, that he was Sozin’s true successor. He has all of our grandfather’s cruelty, and none of our grandmother’s caring. But your little cousin, Zuko, he’s so much more than his father’s son. You would be proud of the man he is becoming.

We are travelling with the Avatar now. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe. He is still an Airbender. He was twelve when the Temples were raided, and it shows, but he is so good at staying positive. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a born Airbender trait, or if I could be as positive as that with a little more work. I try, the spirits know I try. It’s all I can do to atone for my mistakes, and all the people I hurt, and you…

…

Zuko is a good boy. He has suffered, so much, but his heart is pure, I think. He puts on a brave face, like any Crown Prince should, but I hear him muttering in his sleep. His father haunts him, and he always will, every time he looks in a mirror. That was a truly horrific thing Ozai did. And I am ashamed to say I stood by and let it happen. I hope Zuko never feels like I failed him. It’s been three years now, and I still feel like I failed him. Like I failed you.

But I try. I have been teaching him the better ways, as much as he will let me. He can even make a more yellow flame now, though it’s faint, and I don’t think he has noticed. And he has finally begun listening to the Avatar, which I hope will help with his temper just a bit.

He reminds me a lot of you. He is loyal to his Nation, almost to a fault, but he can see that things are wrong. He is feeling the urge to correct them. I was certain that you would be a weak, ineffectual Fire Lord, but now, I think you would have been… exceptional. I think you had an instinct for compassion that has been absent in our family for many generations. Even from me.

And Zuko has that same instinct. Heh, I suppose Destiny was set on changing the course of the Fire Nation, one way or another. Did you know, Zuko actually set this whole wild series of events in motion, because he wanted to help a Water Tribe child who had gotten caught in an old Fire Nation trap? I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t been on the bridge to hear it myself. And that was before the influence of the Avatar, and Destiny, and survival. You wouldn’t recognize him behind the shaggy hair and weary eyes, but you would know him as soon as he spoke. I think you would like him.

…

The next few months are going to be difficult, and I probably won’t be able to visit here again soon. Sozin’s Comet is returning, and I suspect that your uncle has some terrible plan ready to set in motion. Defeating him will be the simple part; the Avatar is more than capable, even at a hundred and twelve years old. You really should see it when he gets serious. It’s a sight to behold, and terrifying sometimes. Ozai won’t know what hit him. He can’t fathom anyone being more powerful than him.

The difficult part will be understanding when Destiny wants us to move. Avatar Aang does nothing unless it seems right, and that has served us very well until now. But here, right now, we are stuck in the city, waiting for some sign of where his Flying Bison is, and with every day I feel a sense of dread growing. If we are meant to be here, I cannot see why yet. If we are meant to move on, I am beginning to doubt that we would, and defying Destiny is a dangerous prospect.

Hooohhhh

But. As long as we are here, we don’t have to worry about food, or storms, or attacks. It is a protected environment. And I am trying to take your advice and use it for what I can. Zuko is learning about tea making. Even without Firebending, it takes a precise understanding of the proper heat levels, and patience that he has not needed until now but will absolutely need in the future. It will be an important skill to have.

And more than that, there are people here who still remember the siege that took your life. There are people with scars that I or my orders gave them. If I can help just a few of them, then maybe my spirit can be redeemed. The dragons seemed to think so, or they wouldn’t have let me live.

Oh, you might like that. It was glorious. I was on a search for anything that would explain how the Fire Nation had come to this, how I had come to that point, and suddenly I was surrounded by Sun Warriors! Can you imagine? It was like I had been sucked into a textbook, or an old cave painting. All I could do was prostrate myself and beg their judgement. And to my surprise, they refused even that. They said the Masters were the only ones who could judge.

So I carried a flame up this mountain, to a couple of ceremonial caves. I kept thinking to myself, this is just strange. Nothing made sense, and even the little flame didn’t feel right. I almost thought I was dreaming. Hahaha!

But I reached the top, and climbed the stairs, and these two huge dragons, ancient by the size of them, came rushing out. There was no going back. If I wanted to do anything in your memory, fix any of my mistakes, I had to get past that moment. And I suppose they saw that.

I excused my absence from the Palace as a dragon hunt, and said I killed the last one. I even had a shed scale to prove it. But ever since, I have been almost as powerful as Ozai. I couldn’t let him suspect, or I might have had to fight for my life, but now I think it would be a fair fight, if the two of us were to face each other. I was the Dragon of the West before because of my tactics and command, but now I have a dragon’s fire. I suppose I will have to use it soon. It seems like an important asset for when things look to be at their worst.

…

You would have laughed at that story. I miss your laughter. And the way your eyebrows pointed toward that tuft of hair that always hung in your eyes. I will see you again, I promise. I don’t know how, or when, but I will.


	38. Nini's Lost Days

Father’s Heart-Friend-Aang had been gone so long. The sand was itchy, and the sun was too-hot angry. Nini felt a rumble in her feet. Something wasn’t right.

Little-Earth-Mover-Friend jumped to her feet and ran to the tall rock that Heart-Friend had gone inside. She was yelling, distressed. She tried to Earth-Move the rock, but it was sinking. Nini stomped her feet. How would Heart-Friend come out if the rock door was gone? She groaned to Little-Earth-Mover-Friend, keep trying! The little human made rock under her feet to stand and tried again.

A shifty, itchy sound behind her made Nini turn around. Sandy humans riding boats came close and surrounded Nini and her Friend. Would they help? They could Sand-Move to keep the rock door from sinking. Nini turned and yelled at them, please help! Heart-Friend would be trapped! They leapt off their boats with ropes and came closer. Nini didn’t know what ropes could do to help, but she knew people liked to help Heart-Friend.

The Sand-Mover-Friends walked in a circle around Nini, but then they stopped. They swung their ropes in circles, and threw the heavy ends over Nini’s back. How was this going to help Heart-Friend? The ropes stretched across her back, and one fell over her neck. They tightened down, pulling her closer to the hot sand. This was not helping Heart-Friend. This was hurting Nini! The Sand-Movers were not friends.

Nini tossed her head, and one of the Sand-Movers flew high in the air. He was not an Air-Mover. He would not land softly. She reared up, pulling on the ropes and making them bite into her fur. Her back feet sank in the soft, itchy sand. It was hard to balance. One of the ropes wrapped around her front foot, and another caught in her horns. They pulled her sideways and she fell. Her saddle cracked under her weight, but it did not break.

Little-Earth-Mover-Friend let go of the rock door and tried to Sand-Move, but she was not a Sand-Mover. She missed, and the rock door slid down into the ground. No! Nini groaned. Little-Friend had to keep the door open!

One of the Sand-Movers threw a rope and it twisted around and around Nini’s mouth. She reared up again, this time keeping her middle feet on the ground to help with balance. She broke the rope and roared at the mean Sand-Mover. He could not hold her. The sky was her home, and he was not an Air-Mover. She pumped her tail, and sent two Sand-Movers backward. Their ropes went slack. She turned and did it again, and more ropes went slack. She set her front feet down, and moved the air around her to be under her instead. They could not follow her here.

More ropes flew up to tangle her. Nini grunted at them. This was her home. She pushed more air under her to go higher. But this time, the ropes did not loosen. They were stronger. The Sand-Movers were not being pulled. Instead, they were pulling her. Now there were ropes on three of her feet. Another aimed for her mouth and did not let go. They were dragging her down, back to the too-hot sand! She shook and pulled, but their feet were encased in sand, and they would not budge!

There was no one behind her now; they had learned. They tied their ropes together, pinning her feet. She struggled and thrashed, but it was hard to move when she was tied up like this. She rocked back and forth to no avail. Where was Heart-Friend? He would help! Shining-Eyes-Heart-Friend could always win! But Little-Earth-Mover-Friend was still holding the door for him. He wasn’t here. There was no one to help. There was nothing she could do.

The Bad-Sand-Mover-Not-Friends tied her ropes to their three boats, and dragged her across the itchy sand. They stayed clear of her tail, her only weapon. She had to get free. She had to watch for anything she could do. Heart-Friend would not give up, so neither would she. She would wait. Bad-Humans always made mistakes that Heart-Friend could use to get them away. She could wait for them to make a mistake.

She waited a long time. The too-hot sun and itchy sand were miserable. She had never been this uncomfortable in her life. And with the ropes tying her feet close to her body, she couldn’t even shake out her sore shoulders. Bad-Sand-Mover-Leader shouted at the others, and two of them climbed up onto Nini’s back. She growled and tried to rock back and forth, but she couldn’t move enough to knock them off. They started throwing things out of the saddle.

Something heavy landed in front of Nini’s nose and kicked itchy sand up into the air. It prickled at the inside of her nose. With a mighty heave, she sneezed, and one of the boats in front of her was in the way. It slid along the sand and buried itself in a dune. The Bad-Leader waved a hand and another said something. They would not even try to retrieve it. One less boat to break.

The Bad-Sand-Movers jumped off Nini’s back and said things to the Bad-Leader. They left all of Heart-Friend-Aang’s things in the itchy sand and got back on the two boats. They couldn’t move as fast now. The itchy sand didn’t hurt as much. That made Nini proud.

After a long time, the sun started falling, and the Bad-Sand Movers stopped again. This time, there were other humans around, with big bugs that they rode. One stepped close to talk to Bad-Leader, and Nini growled loud at him. If he didn’t help, he was a Bad. The Bug-Human talked with the Bad-Leader, and they shook hands. Neither of them untied Nini. The Bug-Humans were Bad-Humans, too. But the Bad-Bug-Humans didn’t know about Nini’s tail. They tied her ropes to their big bugs and pulled her forward into a wood thing, like a big flat boat with bones above. When Nini was on the boat, the bones swung down and pressed into her back. It was just more ropes. Hard-Ropes.

One of the big bugs walked behind her. Nini knew what she could do. She flapped her tail to move the air. The big bug was pushed far back, and the Bad-Bug-Human on its back fell off into the too-hot sand. But also, Nini felt the hard-ropes move with her. She rocked back and forth, and the hard-ropes rocked, too. She could move them with her! She pounded her tail into the ground and pushed air under her to fly. The hard-ropes flew, too.

They were heavy, and she was still sore and restrained, but she could leave here and find her Heart-Friend! Another flap of her tail pushed her higher. The sky was her home. They couldn’t get her here. She felt the itchy sand in her fur. She also felt something more itchy-pokey than sand. It touched her middle foot. Everything started spinning, like she was caught in a bad wind, tumbling uncontrolled. She slammed into the itchy sand, hard, and she saw the Bad-Bug-Humans come close, talking to each other. She was so sleepy. What had they done to her? Everything faded to darkness.

There was a human nearby, talking. Was this one Bad, too? The voice sounded kind, but something was off. Nini opened her eyes, and saw the Colorful-Human standing on the other side of straight metal stripes. What was this? Nini looked left and right. She was completely encased by the metal stripes. There was no way out! This was like being in the Rock-Glow-Cave when the door had broken and trapped them all! But smaller!

She tried to turn, but something jangled and pulled at her front foot. She looked down and found more metal, wrapped like a rope around her ankle. She pulled at it, but it was attached to more metal. It was a metal-rope. The Bad-Colorful-Human reached inside the metal stripes and patted Nini’s nose. She decided she did not like that, and he would not do it again.

The Bad-Colorful-Human walked away past another metal-cave, and returned with a rolling wood box that had cabbages on it! Food! Nini was so hungry. She hadn’t had anything to eat since the Ice-Place before the itchy desert. He held out a cabbage to her, and she eagerly reached her tongue out for it. But just as she could feel the cool, crunchy, delicious cabbage on the tip of her tongue, he pulled it away, out of her reach.

Instead, he gave it to the lionvulture in the metal-cave beside her. He kept talking in that not-quite-kind voice. And he kept looking straight at Nini. Whatever he was trying to say, he had no spiritual presence, and Nini had no idea what he meant.

The Bad-Colorful-Human did something small, and the lionvulture’s cave opened! The creature spread its wings and flew out! Would he release Nini, too? Maybe he wasn’t bad! But he had pulled the cabbage away. This was a trick. Nini pulled and bit at the metal ropes on her feet, but there was no use. They didn’t budge. She was not being released.

The lionvulture didn’t fly away. Instead, it flew in a wide arc and came back to the Bad-Colorful-Human. He moved his hand, and fire came out like a long rope. He threw it out at the lionvulture, but the creature did not attack him for it. Instead, it moved where the Fire-Mover directed.

Nini was so hungry. And the Bad-Fire-Mover was watching the other creature. Nini could smell the cabbages, and that meant she could Air-Move and bring them closer. She pushed against the metal-cave and pulled air toward her. The rolling box rolled, and a cabbage from the pile flew with the air into Nini’s waiting jaws. Nothing had tasted so sweet before. She swallowed the first and sucked in a second, and then a third.

The Bad-Fire-Mover was talking again. Nini kept eating, and noticed the lionvulture doing strange flips and carrying metal circles. Why didn’t it just peck the Bad-Fire-Mover? She belched, and the Bad-Fire-Mover turned around with an angry face. His fire-rope flashed toward Nini instead, and the straw at the front of her metal-cave caught fire! It was too-hot! She tried to rear back, but the top of the metal-cave and the metal-ropes on her feet kept her there! She was trapped, and the fire was close! It burned her nose!

And then it was gone! The Bad-Fire-Mover had waved his hand and banished the fire, just like that. He controlled the food, the fire, and the metal-caves. Nini crouched back against the far wall of her cage. She was helpless. If she wanted to be safe from him, she had to do what the Bad-Fire-Mover wanted. Maybe there would be a chance later to escape.

Her nose stung and her stomach growled, but no one came to help her. Nini had never been alone. She had always had her family, her Heart-Friend, or the humans her Heart-Friend trusted. They had always cared for her. When was she going to be able to eat? The food was right there, a hay bale leaning against the cloth wall. She could hear more Bad-Humans outside. Maybe if she did it quick, no one would see her eat. She looked around, but the Bad-Fire-Mover wasn’t there.

Nini pressed close to the cage bars and pulled at the air, but the hay bale didn’t move. She tried harder, and it rocked, but it still stayed there. She was so hungry. A Little-Calf-Human poked his head through a break in the cloth wall, and for a few seconds, Nini just stared. Could a Little-Human be a Bad-Human? She licked the bars. She was so hungry, and she needed help. The Little-Human smiled. He moved closer, fully inside the cloth wall now, and flipped the hay bale end-over-end until it rested against Nini’s cage. She licked his face and bit into the hay, savoring the warm-happy-memory flavor of the straw.

Voices came closer, and the Good-Calf-Human dashed away back out the break in the cloth wall. Nini slurped the rest of the hay quickly, and moved away from the bars. She recognized the Bad-Fire-Mover, but the Bad-Human beside him was even more colorful, and sounded like a Leader. The Bad-Leader gave an order, and the Bad-Fire-Mover came up to Nini’s cage with angry words. He held up his hand with fire in it, close enough for Nini to feel the heat on her stinging nose, and she backed away. Fire was danger here.

Nini lay quiet and still while Bad-Humans covered her with colorful blankets and bells. They did not remove the metal-ropes from her feet. She moved when they poked her with long pointy sticks. They corralled her toward the sounds of many voices. More Bad-Humans, come to watch her obey the Fire-Mover. She walked toward the door, away from the sharp sticks, and out into a wide open space with a cloth roof. She still wasn’t outside.

The Fire-Mover was there. He flicked out his fire-rope, and Nini did what she could to avoid it. She jumped up onto a short platform that was only big enough for one foot, but it was hard to balance with her other feet all tied together. She jumped into the air to avoid the next swing of the whip, and all the Bad-voices made cooing sounds. This was what they wanted. Just this. Her pain and hunger, driven by fear. They wanted to watch.

Nini flew through the metal ring like she had seen the lionvulture do, but it was on fire, and she was unsteady. It caught on the blankets the Bad-Humans had put on her head. The heat was still there, too close! She shook her head and tipped about in the air to get it away! The next ring was close, but it was on fire, too! Nini turned and smacked it with her tail. No more. No fire!

The Good-Calf-Human was there. He would help. Nini could go and he would help. She shook her head and tossed off all the blankets and bells. The sky was right there, through the gap in the cloth wall. She could see stars. The Bad-Fire-Mover was too far below her to stop her. Her feet were still tied, but her tail was free, and so was she.

With two swings of her tail, Nini was sprinting through the air toward freedom. The fire whip flashed in the corner of her eye, and she spun to avoid it. This Human! She swung her tail hard, pushing a huge column of air into his face and sending him flying across the floor. She would be free! He would not stop her!

This time, she made it out the gap, and into the sea of stars. The sky was her home. It was peace and safety. She flew away, far enough that the Fire-Mover could not find her. Far enough that maybe her Heart-Friend could.

She flew back to where she had last seen her Heart-Friend. The desert was dark and cold, but the itchy sand was still hot. The rock door was not there. Instead, there was a crater. The door was gone. Had Heart-Friend made it out? She did not know. She was so tired. Maybe she could sleep here, and he would come back to find her. Yeah, that was what she’d do.

But morning came and still there was a crater, and open desert, and no Heart-Friend. Nini’s stomach growled. She had to find food. She flew up and picked a direction she thought felt good. Flying was easy. Finding food was hard. She saw a purple egg and tried to eat that, but a little fast-reptile snatched it off her tongue. A while later, she saw a plant, and tried to eat that, but the plant had sharp-sticks and hurt her instead. She left it alone, but her stomach was hurting-empty. She hadn’t known empty stomachs could hurt.

A big rock with sweet-smells was next in the empty desert. Nini flew inside and found honey near the middle. But when she started licking it, buzz-bugs flew at her and tried to grab her! They would probably hurt her, too! She fled back into the sky, and pumped her tail to Air-Move a wall between her and the angry buzz-bugs. They were weak. Her tail knocked them aside, and they went back into the big rock. She licked the rest of the honey off her feet, and kept flying.

She was still hungry, and thirsty, and now tired again. The sun was falling close to the edge of the sky, and the stars were sparking to life. The itchy sand below her had turned into hard-packed dirt. Here and there, human buildings were popping up. Some of them looked like barns, where humans kept hay and water for their big pets. Maybe she could find one with enough for her to eat. The next one she saw was big, and she dove toward the door to investigate.

The smell of hay was enticing. She drank all the water in the big trough by the door, and took two huge mouthfulls of hay before her exhaustion overcame her unease. She flopped onto her side in the hay and fell asleep.

She dreamed of her father, and of Heart-Friend. She had been very little when her mother had brought her to the Temple, but her father had nudged her closer to the Human, and she had smelled the apple. Heart-Friend-Aang had spoken softly, and his spirit had shared his meaning. “Hello, little one. I am so glad to meet you.” Nini had stood her front feet on his shoulders and licked his face, and he had laughed the kindest, happiest laugh she had ever heard.

But a shout intruded on the dream. Nini opened her eyes to find a Bad-Human with a pointy stick, close to her eye, shouting! Another Bad-Human walked in the door with a wood stick and Fire! Nini shouted and reared up. These humans and their Fire! She pumped her tail and rose. There was nowhere to go but up. The door was blocked by Fire. She hoped the ceiling was weak enough to break through.

Her head hit the barn ceiling, and punched a hole in the wood-and-thatch barrier, and Nini was out in the starry sky again. Where would she go now? She picked a direction and flew. Over short mountains, and a wide lake, into a forest with big, shady trees. She was so tired. She tried to land where there was a tree growing over a cave for shelter, but she tripped and slid on her side. Everything hurt. She still had itchy sand in her fur. The metal-ropes on her feet kept her from moving right, and made her shoulders ache. Her nose still remembered the angry bite of the Fire. She stood in the dawn light and chomped on a clump of grass near her face. It wasn’t the kind of food she wanted, but it was food. And she would take what she could get.

An angry squeal echoed from the mouth of the shelter cave she had seen. There was a creature moving inside. As it approached, she saw sharp tusks and long quills. The boarcupine swayed to catch her scent, and then charged.

Nini roared. This creature had no Fire. It would not keep her from food. She turned and slapped her tail at it, but it dodged and came at her from the side. She swung her feet up to stomp on it, but it got caught in the metal-ropes on her feet, and they both fell to the side, tumbling down a short hill. Nini felt the long quills poke and pierce into her shoulders and legs and face. She stood to face her enemy. She’d never had an enemy before.

Her enemy squealed and charged. Nini roared and reared, this time purposefully tangling the creature’s tusks in her metal-ropes and throwing it hard against a thick tree trunk. It slumped to the ground, and stopped moving. She watched it lay there for a while, panting. Then she returned to the cave.

She tried to pull one of the long quills from her leg, but even that one sent spikes of pain up into her shoulder as it slid free. She couldn’t bear to touch another. Instead, she fell onto her side in the shelter of the small cave and fell asleep.

Nini slept for a long time. The soft sound of wind through the leaves of the trees soothed her. No forest creature disturbed her. It rained, and that only calmed her. She had fought and won a place here. This was hers. And the forest left it that way.

But then, a voice intruded. Nini stood in her cave-home. Humans meant bad news. A human in green clothes poked their head up over the hill, and Nini growled. Bad humans were not welcome. She would not be captured again. But the Bad-Human moved closer. Nini backed away and growled louder. What weapon did this one have? Could it still get her? The voice was soft and sweet, but the Bad-Fire-Mover had been at first, too.

The Bad-Human crouched down and set something on the grass, just outside the cave entrance. Had the voice said “Nini?” No. Bad-Humans never used her name. Nini watched the Bad-Human back away slowly, and go down the hill, out of sight. What had it left for her? Another danger? She sniffed the air, but all she smelled was fruit. And apples! She inched forward and sniffed again. The human had left food! In one lick, it was gone, and Nini moved back into the cave. One good act was not enough to make a Bad-Human good.

The voices came back soon. More of them now. Nini growled at the face that popped over the edge of the hill. The human did not back away. It came closer, just like before, and more faces followed behind. She growled louder, and the Bad-Leader said something that made the others crouch and retreat a bit. Were they listening to her growls?

The Bad-Leader stepped slowly, one foot at a time. “Nini… wolsft Suki. Ermol Friend.” Right. Friend. Sure. Nini growled at the Bad-Leader, and the human stopped stepping. But they kept speaking. Mostly nonsense, the human had no spiritual power the way Heart-Friend-Aang did. But some words were recognizable. Help, better, help, the human said. And then, Aang. She said Heart-Friend’s name. Nini growled only softly, a warning not to do anything, and let the human take the last few steps forward. She laid her hand gently on Nini’s sore nose.

Suki’s energy was familiar. It was Kyoshi-Friend-Leader-Suki. Nini sighed and leaned into the familiar hand. She could rest now. A Friend was here. And she had brought other Friends. Nini flopped on her side, and the Kyoshi-Friend-Humans came up around her, moving slowly and being careful not to hurt her or startle her. They spoke softly, and their hands brushed her fur gently before they did anything. When they started pulling quills from her legs, they pulled slowly, keeping them straight so they didn’t hurt so much. They used strong tools to pry apart the metal-ropes on Nini’s feet.

Before long, Nini felt like she could move freely again. She stepped out into the sun in front of her shelter-cave and sighed. The first Kyoshi-Friend who came close got a big lick from her. They laughed and stroked her fur, brushing out the dirt and clumps that had accumulated.

Nini’s ear twitched to catch a distant sound. It was footsteps. Something was approaching, twelve feet pounding on the ground, and fast. Kyoshi-Friend-Leader-Suki noticed, and stood in front of Nini, between her and the approaching footsteps. The other Kyoshi-Friend-Humans followed their Leader, and soon, Nini was protected by a wall of Friends with metal shields and serious faces.

Three mongooselizards came galloping out of the forest and stopped. Each one was carrying a young human. Nini recognized two of them as the Knife-Thrower and the Make-Motionless-Fighter that had hurt Heart-Friend’s calves just before the angry Little-Fire-Mover-Friend had come back. The third one was a new Bad-Human. Nini could see the Bad in her eyes.

The Kyoshi-Friends and the Bad-Humans argued, and then the angry one sent blue fire at Nini! The blue fire was hotter than the other Fire-Movers, and Nini was glad of the Kyoshi-Friends who caught the last on their shields. But the ranches around Nini had caught flame, and now there was fire everywhere. Nini balked, but the angry Bad-Human rushed at Kyoshi-Friend-Suki, and Nini did not want the Bad-Human to win.

Before Nini could fight back, Friend-Suki grabbed a fire branch and waved it at her, shouting. Nini recoiled from the flames, and Friend-Suki stepped forward with the fire. No more! Nini pumped her tail and took flight. No more Fire! Not even from Friends!

Where would she go now? Nini kept going the direction she had been. It seemed the right way to go. She flew, and rested, and flew again. She passed over plains, and a great wide river with boats on it. She passed over forests and into the mountains. Finally, a familiar shape emerged in the distance, a particular arrangement of mountains, and a series of familiar tall spires. She was home.

But no one else was. Nini walked through empty hallways and barren balconies. The fountain in the courtyard still flowed with cool, clean water, so she drank her fill. But the places where she remembered Heart-Friend-Aang would supply food were all empty. There were no sacks of apples or bales of hay to be found.

She made her way through the empty building and back out the other side. And there, finally, she was not alone. Across a bridge, meditating on the ledge at the top of the path, there was a human. And here, at the temple, the only old human was Heart-Friend! She dashed forward, knocking the wrinkled old man onto his back and licking him like she had when she was a calf.

But in a moment, she knew. The old stranger said, “Hello. I am Guru Pathik.” This was not a familiar energy, and this old human had no tattoos. She backed up, squared her shoulders, and growled. “I know I’m not the person you expected,” he said, “and I didn’t expect to be licked by a giant tongue just now.” He smiled, but Nini didn’t trust it. “The world is full of surprises!”

When Nini did not stop growling her warning, the old human layed down on the rock floor and fell asleep! Nini watched him for a long time, but he did not move. She was content to guard him here until her Heart-Friend returned home. When he opened his eyes again, she made sure he knew she was still watching, and that he was not to approach. He shut his eyes again until morning. Nini was still watching, and growled again.

She must have fallen asleep. She was so tired. When she woke, it was morning. She felt the best rested that she had this last few weeks. The smell of familiar fruits drew her eyes down to the pile of them at her feet, and with one great lick she had swallowed them all. Where had that stranger gone? He couldn’t be all Bad. He had let her sleep, and had left her food.

She searched for him, and found him meditating on a new ledge, facing the sunrise instead of the sunset. “Someone looks very well rested,” he laughed, “judging by your bed head.” Nini snorted and shook her head to smooth out the fur.

But that was all he said the whole day. Nini watched him sit and meditate until the sun had set and the moon had risen, and then plopped down beside him. Guru Pathik was a Good-Human. He had been kind and patient.

He stood and patted her side, and then bowed to her and asked, “I have prepared a message for Aang; may I attach it to your horn?” When she grunted and tipped her head toward him, he stepped up and gently tied a scroll to her horn, careful to keep it out of her way.

“You and the Avatar’s energies are mixed,” he explained with certainty. But Nini thought that had been her father. “You have an unbreakable bond. By reading your energy, I can sense where Aang is.”

Nini was cautious, but if it meant finding her Heart-Friend, she would try. She licked the Guru and turned over onto her side. “Funny,” he said, placing a gentle hand on her chest, between her two front feet, “what invisible strings connect us all.”

In a flash of light and color, Nini saw an image of high stone walls, and Aang, sleeping fitfully and muttering. She knew where he was. She stood and pumped her tail to push herself upward once more.

“I’ll see you again, great beast,” said the old man, waving goodbye. And Nini flew on. The Great Wall of Ba Sing Se had been on the horizon as she passed yesterday. She hadn’t recognized it without the Guru’s context. Now, she headed straight for it.

Before the night was done, she heard a high whistle, one of the bison whistles Heart-Friend-Aang had taught her to respond to. She did a barrel-roll and angled her flight to meet him. She landed in a dark street, saw the tall man with the whistle, and only had time to realize she had walked into another trap before she was flipped upside down by the ground itself, sending her careening back into darkness.


	39. Lake Laogai

“It is absolutely forbidden by the rules of the city to continue putting up posters.” Joo Dee, the original Joo Dee, stood on the threshold of the Upper Ring house and beamed absently at the shocked and crestfallen faces around her. She held in her hand a large stack of the posters Katara had printed that Aang had flown across the city dropping into the streets. It was a last-ditch effort to find someone, anyone, who had seen Nini, and it was sitting useless in this puppet’s hands.

Aang set down his tea cup and stood. With deliberate slowness and a chilling sort of calm, he stepped up to Joo Dee’s face, towering over her, and entoned, “We are done caring about the rules.” Zuko shuddered, and was glad the words were not directed at him instead. He saw the implacable woman flinch and pale, though her smile remained frozen in place. “I am not going to ask permission to do what is necessary to find my bison. And if you or anyone else wants to stand in my way, I can show you what it means to be the Avatar.”

Aang didn’t move a muscle, but a blast of strong wind pushed Joo Dee backward out the door, and slammed it in her face. There was silence for a heartbeat while Aang’s robes settled and Joo Dee’s footsteps receded outside, then Sokka cringed. “That might come back to bite us in the blubber.”

“I don’t care,” said the Airbender, turning to meet each of their eyes. “From now on, I am willing to do whatever it takes to find Nini. If you are not okay with that, you can stay here. I won’t be offended.”

“Fuck yeah, let’s break some rules!” Toph leapt to her feet and swept strong arms toward the side wall of the house, caving it outward and leaving the livingroom clouded with dust in the bright sunlight.

Katara gathered the larger posters she’d had printed for pasting on walls, and passed them around, but Zuko waved her off. “I think there’s another way I can get some information.” His eyes narrowed with focus and determination. He had been suspicious of the Dai Li for weeks now. It might be faster to ask them directly. He saw his uncle turn a worried frown on him, and pulled up the corner of his mouth. “I’ll be fine, Uncle. I will not be seen.”

Iroh locked eyes with him. “Remember to be careful,” he advised. “Watch your back, and above you. These people are not to be underestimated.”

Zuko nodded gravely. That he knew very well. He went to retrieve his small travelling pack. In the bottom of the worn burlap bag, safe and still undisturbed, lay his mother’s Blue Spirit mask. With it, he could Firebend. With the anonymity of the mask, he could trick, trap, and interrogate a Dai Li agent. They wouldn’t know who they were dealing with. If they knew anything, he would find out.

He put on his black stealth outfit, and stowed the pack. Back in the main room, he could hear Aang say, “Iroh, my friend, your power would be incredibly helpful, but I think your subterfuge will be more. Could you return to the shop for the majority of today? You may well be the only one of us to return with news.”

Zuko slipped out his window under the cover of the large honeysuckle bush there, and checked all his angles before he moved any farther. When he was certain he was unseen, he crept from the shadow of the honeysuckle bush and into the shadow of a boxwood, and then another, and under a tall hibiscus, checking always behind him, above him, and in every shadow. He was still unnoticed. He stepped out onto the road and made his way to where he had seen Dai Li agents before.

In the Middle Ring, the houses and buildings were close enough together that he could leap from rooftop to rooftop, and see for miles. He put on his mask and crept forward. He remembered seeing Dai Li agents at the tea shop, but not often. He would check there first.

Zuko searched every rooftop, alley, back patio, dark window, and leafy treetop around the tea shop, but there was no one there. At least he was sure he wasn’t being followed himself. But where could they be? There had to be hundreds of them in the city, ‘protecting the cultural heritage’ from forest rats like Jet.

Maybe they were focusing on Aang, since he had the most potential to cause disruption in the city? The Avatar had taken the others down into populated areas specifically to break rules. If there was anyone being tailed by Dai Li today, it was them. Zuko leapt to the next roof and made for the Lower Ring wall.

It was actually harder to move around in the Lower Ring, even though the buildings were closer together. Some were short, some were tall, many leaned over their neighbors, so he had to sneak past windows even up here. The smells of incense, dirt, and sweaty crowds assaulted his senses. The ringing in his ears had him constantly turning to see if the shuffle he’d heard was a shutter closing or a Dai Li agent. He cursed the blurry vision in his left eye. What he wouldn’t give to be back on the road, with Aang and the others, just the sounds of wind in the leaves and pleasant conversation for company.

He spotted a dark-robed figure clinging to a high wall, and couldn’t stay in his thoughts anymore. He cautiously approached above the Dai Li agent, out of sight behind a taller building and disguised in his dark, dusty clothes against the dark wood of the structure. Now he just had to wait for an opportunity.

He followed the watcher to another roof, and then down into a shadowed alley. The agent was fixated on what he was watching, and not on what was behind him. The sun was starting to fall. It had to be mid-afternoon now. Zuko followed at a stately, silent pace. They were in an empty alley now. He drew his swords, and was pleased when they slid smoothly from their scabbard, silent as an owlcat. He stepped up behind the agent, and sliced the swords upward to catch the man in a sharp, steely headlock.

The man trembled, and tried to keep his neck still to avoid the razored edges of Zuko’s blades. “W-what do you want?”

“The Avatar has been in the city, looking for his bison,” the Blue Spirit purred in his captive’s ear. “I want you to tell me everything you know.” He pressed the blades closer to skin.

It was easy to tell when the man had made his decision. He stopped shaking quite so hard, and sighed. “Okay, alright, just please, I have a newborn at home, I never wanted to do this…” Zuko relaxed his grip just a hair, and the man sighed. “We spotted the bison approaching the Outer Wall about a week before the Avatar arrived. We captured it and kept it as insurance against the Airbender doing anything to disrupt the city.”

“Where are you keeping it?”

“At Lake Laogai. Please…” That was what he needed to know. In a flash, Zuko withdrew his swords, leapt to the nearest roof, and dashed away toward a group of tall buildings, keeping an eye on where he had left the man to be sure he wasn’t followed.

Lake Laogai. He remembered the name. It was where Joo Dee had said she had gone, during the time she was replaced by the other Joo Dee. Zuko needed a map. And maybe some tea. He cringed at the image of his uncle’s pride if he ever knew about that thought. The exiled prince pulled his mask off and stashed it inside the front of his shirt, out of sight. Uncle would know where to find a map.

Zuko found his uncle at the tea shop, talking to a well-dressed nobleman about tea. Figures. Wait, did he say brand-new tea shop? Upper Ring? No time for that. He slunk around the building to a side window, and waited for the old Firebender to come near. “Pssst. Uncle.”

“Nephew!” came the excited whisper in response. “Guess what this man just said! He’s going to give us our own tea shop in the Upper Ring of the city!”

“That’s great,” Zuko mumbled, “but we have a bigger mission. I have Nini’s location, but I need a map.”

Iroh eyed him suspiciously. “And what are you going to do if you find her?”

“Free her, obviously. We have to get moving.” Why was he asking this? Wasn’t it obvious? “Do you know where I could find a map, or not?”

Iroh’s eyes widened, and he stared at his nephew when he said, “Yes, the college should have one in the courtyard, easily accessible even to the public.”

Zuko didn’t wait for the old Firebender to give any disagreements, and darted away in the direction of the college. Now he was really moving. Making progress toward his destiny. This was where he wanted to be.

The map was on a kiosk near the arched entryway to Ba Sing Se University, and Zuko was able to get close enough to read it without ever leaving rooftops and hedges, keeping well out of sight. Lake Laogai was a huge body of water in the Eastern section of the city, outside the Lower Ring but within the Outer Wall. It would be a journey, but worth every step. He’d better get moving.

Zuko didn’t even stop to get Aang or the others. No one here was expecting a Firebender, and he was a master swordsman besides. He could do this himself, quickly, get back to the rest of the gang this afternoon, and they could be on their way tonight, maybe to the Fire Nation, or at least out of this city where everyone likes to stare.

He moved faster alone, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, avoiding crowds and open windows where someone might notice him. There were no barrier walls up here.

The lake came into sight sooner than Zuko expected. It was huge. The shoreline curved away into the distance, and the water stretched all the way to the horizon. Zuko walked along the shore for a while, but there was nothing, no facility, no Flying Bison, not even a trace of human habitation. Just water and waves to one side, grass and trees to the other.

Had the Dai Li agent been lying? Toph would have been able to tell. Was he just missing something here? Sokka would be able to tell. Was the place hidden, on shore or in the water? Aang or Katara would be able to tell. What could he do now? His uncle would know, but Zuko had left everyone behind. “Aarrgh!” He turned and kicked a bush, lighting it ablaze.

The bush burned bright orange and hot, and was nothing but cinders and ash in seconds. As the blaze died down, Zuko stooped and stared at the flat stone underneath. It was out of place. The flat surface was like many others along the shoreline, but it sat about half an inch too high out of the ground, and felt too smooth. On a hunch, he pried his fingers under the edge and heaved.

The rough edge of the rock slid aside by an inch, and beneath it, the void stretched deep into the earth. This was it. Zuko squared his feet, wrapped his fingers more securely under the edge, and lifted it away. The flat stone fell with a heavy thud into the sandy lakeshore soil, and Zuko took stock of his situation.

Below him, a cylindrical hole, like a dry well, stretched downward so far that it seemed to just be abyss. On one wall, a small metal ladder was affixed securely into the stone. The Dai Li base was underground! He had found it! His heart soared, and then sank. It was away from the reach of the sun. His Firebending would be hobbled down there.

Well, there wasn’t anything else to do. He set a hand on the comforting hilts of his swords, and slid his mask over his face. He turned his face to the sun, took a deep breath, and set his foot on the top rung of the ladder. Every step downward into darkness clanged and clunked, as much as he tried not to. It was just a noisy ladder. He cringed, and stepped quickly.

As soon as his feet hit the bottom of the shaft, he glanced left and right, and darted around a corner to hide. He stood, crouched, straining to hear anything approaching while he waited for his eyes to fully adjust to the dark. He could start to see long, rough stone hallways stretching out in various directions, some with doors set into the walls at intervals. But where was Nini?

The bison was huge; her cell would need to be enormous, and have a bigger door than just the tunnel Zuko had come through. So unless they had built a special room specifically for her, Zuko thought the Dai Li would have used a bigger, central room. Maybe a repurposed meeting room or something similar. So which way was the center of the compound?

He thought about where the ladder had been, compared to the lake, and headed in the direction of the center of the lake. That was his best bet. If that failed, he would systematically clear every room until he found her. He hoped it didn’t come to that.

Under the lake, the tunnels were bigger, with smoother walls and green crystal lanterns set into delicate-looking sconces in the ceiling. Zuko took shallow, silent breaths, and checked around every corner before moving forward. The doors were getting bigger, too. He started checking through the little windows, or opening the door a few inches to see inside. No bison yet.

Soft footsteps came echoing down a side hallway, and Zuko ducked inside an arched doorway to get out of sight. Two sets, two people, light on their feet. Hushed voices whispered harshly in the silence of the labyrinth, “Toph, check that way.”

Katara? And Toph, by the sounds of it. So Aang had found his way here, too. He would have kept Sokka with him to protect him, trusting the girls could handle themselves. They had clearly split up to search. 

“Zuko’s here, too,” Toph muttered, turning an ear toward his hiding place. “Your intel was good then?”

Zuko stepped out but didn’t speak. He nodded his head, exaggerating the movement to be sure Toph could see it. Katara had to shake off her surprise at what was her first sight of his Blue Spirit mask.

The blind Earthbender nodded back. “We’ve checked everything back that way. You keep following that hall, and we’ll move this way.”

Zuko nodded again and slipped away into the hall. One of them would find Nini. It was a sure thing now. He kept moving toward what he thought was the center. Door after ever-more-exquisite door led to nothing but empty rooms and dark chambers. Where was that bison?! They clearly kept her here. And he had to be getting close.

He listened for footsteps, and heard a heavy shuffling. Cautiously, he stepped forward to the too-small door, but dutifully checked through the small window. When he realized what he was seeing, he threw the bolt and swung the door wide open.

Nini stood in the center of the room, chained to a raised platform, crouching and growling like he had never heard her before. He approached slowly, holding out a hand. “What did they do to you, girl?” She edged away with a renewed growl, and he stopped, just at the edge of the platform. How had they gotten her in here? Earthbending. They could have kept her anywhere. He was lucky they had put her here instead of carving a special room into the mountains.

He checked the walls and ceiling for Dai Li, saw only a high skylight shining late-afternoon sunlight into the chamber, and took off his mask. “Nini, it’s okay, girl. Let me get you out of here. Aang has been looking for you.”

He didn’t know if it was her name, Aang’s, or something else entirely that finally got through to the Flying Bison, but Nini finally leaned forward to sniff at him, and then licked him from his knees to his hair. “There’s a girl,” he said, and ruffled the fur on her muzzle.

He patted her and stepped back to get a look at her shackles. “Okay, girl. I can get these off,” he said, eyeing the metal and betting on his swords, “but it’s gonna be loud. Get ready to fly us out of here.” He drew his swords and swung them in a circle, as a kind of warning for Nini to stand still. She stood straight and still. Good.

Just like when Zuko had freed Aang’s shackles at the Yuyan Fortress so long ago, he swung his swords toward the iron links here, and was pleased when the chains shattered. These swords were no props like he had been using then, and they made quick work of the rusted metal he pitted them against. Nini picked up her feet one at a time to shake the rest off, and groaned happily when she was finally satisfied she was free.

“Alright, Nini,” he said, approaching her shoulder, “time or you to get us out of here.” He climbed up her fur, and realized there was no saddle to sit in. No reigns to hold. “Be careful with me, please,” he said with a shudder, and sat astride her neck. He took thick handfuls of fur for handholds, and closed his eyes.

He felt the air in the huge room swirl, ruffling the hair against his ears, and heard the deep thud of Nini’s tail as she lifted them off the ground. She tilted and angled upward, and Zuko clenched his hands around her fur, and clenched his jaw. Was the skylight big enough for her to fly through? How deep had they been? Nothing for it now. She was gonna take them up whether he wanted her to or not.

He could hear and feel the moment they passed out of the cavern and into the open air. The echoes gave way to birdsong and waves, and the breeze smelled fresh and clean. When Nini levelled off, Zuko opened his eyes to the sight of the massive lake laid out below him like a map. He saw Dai Li agents pouring from a hole on a little island on the lake, the spot on one shore where he had found the entry shaft, the hole on the opposite shore where Nini had just emerged, and Aang and all the others floating toward a point between them on an ice platform. Toph looked sick. Zuko pulled on his mask.

Aang and the kids reached the near shore, and were immediately surrounded by rock walls lined at the top with Dai Li agents. One stepped forward, maybe a leader? The Avatar squared his shoulders and brandished his staff. If not a leader, definitely a target. Zuko heard Nini groan just in time to grab tighter before she dove, and fast.

The wind whistled against the points and cavities of the mask, and then Zuko could hear Aang even over the rushing gale. “Nini!” I was joy, relief, and peace, and Zuko couldn’t help but smile. Until Nini crashed headfirst through one of the stone walls confining her friend. Dust and bits of rock showered over Zuko, and he let go of one hand to cover his head. Nini almost slammed her feet down onto the ground and spun, slapping her tail at the men on the other wall and shattering that one to pieces with Airbending.

The man in a Dai Li uniform but no hat approached, growling, “I can handle you myself.” Nini turned to face him as he raised a foot to Earthbend at her, and grabbed that foot in her powerful teeth. Zuko was surprised the man’s leg didn’t break immediately. But when she tossed her head and flung him into the water, there was only the shout of surprise, not a scream of pain.

Zuko slid off Nini’s neck before she could spin or toss her head again. Aang leapt too high, floating to their side, and laid his entire torso out against Nini’s forehead. “I missed you,” he breathed, and she sighed. Zuko smiled, and stepped away, to give them space.

Before he could go far, he was pulled back by strong, tattooed hands. Aang wrapped him in a tight hug, leaning over him and embracing him tightly. “Thank you,” the Airbender said, in his good ear. “Thank you.”


	40. The Earth King

Zuko’s heart raced. He was glad he was still wearing his mask, or his face might have given away his unease. He had freed Nini for himself. He’d helped the Avatar so that the Avatar would help him. But it hadn’t been for Aang, it had been for himself. Right? His friends had needed him. He had needed them. Who had needed whom?

The Airbender released Zuko from the hug, and Zuko couldn’t decide if he felt like running. No one had hugged him like that, not since…

He was uncomfortable. Sokka was talking about storming the Earth King’s Palace, while they were on a roll and while Long Feng was wallowing in the lake. They could get there before him now that they had Nini. Had Zuko caused the Earth King to attack the Fire Nation during the eclipse? Was he really a traitor? His head was spinning. He had done the right thing, he was certain. Or was he? He felt like he was gonna throw up. He felt like the ground was rushing up at him. Hands all around, grabbing at him.

It was never good if someone was grabbing at him. The hands were all around, his mother’s hands, pulling him away from his sister’s teasing, his father’s hands pulling him roughly into a kneeling subservience, his sister’s hands pulling him into the hold of a warship, clawed dragon hands pulling him off the ground, holding him hostage high above the safety of the water below, dropping him, falling, into the water…

Zuko hit the water with a thud that sounded like Nini’s tail, and the cold enveloped him. So cold. Like snowy, icy oceans, and hopeless monotony. Zuko tried to breathe, but cold, salty ocean water flooded into his mouth and gagged him. His arms moved on their own, coming together with fists in front of his chest, and warm air sprouted in a sphere around him. He took a deep breath and hacked out seawater.

The warmth grew, and grew, and he was standing near a volcano, the blazing, burning air assaulting his nose and lungs. He was standing here, but he was also standing there, up on a rock, amid the lava flow, casting blasts of air in flurries of activity. Zuko watched himself Earthbend trenches into the mountain, redirecting the lava away to the sea. Zuko turned to see himself, and his eyes shone with white fire.

A new blast of air struck Zuko in the chest, sending him flying away from the specter of himself, and back into the cool embrace of the ocean. The waves lapped at his long, flowing hair, and pushed him up on the riverbank. A red dragon leaned down over him, huffing hot, sulfurous breath in his face. Zuko’s scar burned in the heat. He raised a hand to protect it, and saw the lines in his skin as clearly as he ever had, with his left eye, his bad eye.

The dragon launched itself into the sky, and Zuko stood surrounded by a tornado of sand in its wake. It was so dry. The wind knocked him onto his back, and he stayed there, too thirsty to move. Someone put a cloth across his forehead, but it was as dry as a bone, like everything else. “This will help cool you down,” said his uncle’s voice, and then the man was there, in the desert, with a bucket of water.

“So thirsty,” Zuko managed to croak, and tried to sit up, but Aang pushed him back down. How dare he?! The Airbender put a ladle in Zuko’s hand, and Zuko tipped his head back. It wasn’t enough. He shoved the old man aside and took the bucket. The water that spilled still felt cool on his parched skin, and he sighed, falling back onto the silk pillows, with his mother tucking him in and whispering, “Say under the blankets and sweat this out.”

The gold dragons that adorned his bedframe slithered and slid around him. The red one had hurt him! But it had healed his scar, too. He sat on his throne, long hair tied in a proud topknot, and the blue dragon snaked around behind him as he stared in suspicion at the red dragon. The room shuddered.

A familiar voice whispered sweet, coaxing words in his ear, “It’s getting late. Are you planning to retire soon, my Lord?” Zuko refused. He was stronger than that. He didn’t need to sleep. “Relax, Fire Lord Zuko,” said the blue, “Just let go. Give in to it. Shut your eyes for a while.” Give in to what? The voice was so calm, it surely knew what it was saying. Maybe he should.

“No, Fire Lord Zuko!” shouted the red dragon, butting up into his face with hot, sulfurous breath. “Do not listen to the blue dragon. You should get out of here right now,” it insisted. It was so certain. But why would he leave his throne room? The walls shuddered. “Go! Before it is too late!”

“Sleep now,” said the blue. The walls shuddered. Something was wrong. Dust fell from cracks in the ceiling. “Sleep,” the dragon crooned in his ear, “just like Mother!” It charged at him, swallowing him, the throne, and the red dragon whole. Dark void covered everything. Everything except a voice.

Zuko swam through the dark water, toward the speck of light and sound. “Help me, Zuko!” Had his mother been swallowed, too? She had survived in the belly of the dragon. So he could too. His feet sped up, and now instead of walking down the moonlit road, he was sprinting, getting closer and closer to a village, on a hillside, on a shoreline of black volcanic sand. He knew exactly where he was going. He ran between buildings, around corners, and through a door, bursting into the room, to see himself laying under heavy blankets, with his uncle sitting beside him, pouring tea.

“You should know that this is not a natural sickness,” Iroh was telling Bedridden-Zuko, “but that shouldn’t stop you from enjoying tea.” Sprinting-Zuko could smell the sweet, floral fragrance from here, and was jealous of himself for a moment.

“What’s happening?”

Iroh set the tea safely aside, and outside a storm raged in a sunny sky. “Your critical decision. What you did beneath that lake, the effect it had on other people. It was in such conflict with your image of yourself that you are now at war within your own mind and body.” The thin, wind-weathered old man held a refilled cup of tea to Bedridden-Zuko’s mouth, and then looked up at Sprinting-Zuko. “Are you running to something, or away from something?”

Zuko stopped running, and took stock of the swamp around him. Tall trees, long grasping vines, thick bubbling bog beneath, and no people. Not a soul to be seen. Zuko stopped running, and took stock of the Spirit Oasis around him. High ice walls surrounding a lake, with an island, and a pond in the middle, with two koi fish swimming in an endless circle, balancing each other, for all time. Zuko stopped running, and took stock of the mountaintop. There was nothing around him but air and silence. True silence. His ear wasn’t ringing.

Zuko stopped running on the mountaintop, and sat down on a small bit of rock. He set his hands beside him, and found a tsungi horn. He hadn’t played one of these since he was in school. Any time someone had asked him to, he had scowled at them until they went away. He picked up the golden horn and pressed it to his lips. By all accounts, he was a good tsungi horn player. The silver instrument felt natural in his hands. But the sound that came out was angry, cacophonous, distorted. The echoes came back to him even more discordant. He set the clear crystal instrument aside, and looked up into the clear night sky. The Northern Lights danced green and blue and orange across the sea of stars.

A bolt of lightning streaked through the churning clouds, and the ship’s deck heaved under Zuko’s feet. He saw his uncle, with one arm outstretched toward the ocean, and the steam of heated rain rising from his shoulders and arms. He had saved them. Zuko needed to thank him.

A bolt of lightning streaked out from Azula’s fingers. He saw his uncle, lunging for his sister, grabbing her hand and sending the lightning crashing into the sea instead of into his heart.

A bolt of lightning streaked out from his uncle’s fingertips, crackling into the open hillside. Zuko saw Nini flying by. She was too close. The Airbending beast was in the line of fire! He had to help the Airbender!

Zuko jumped between the Airbender and the incoming lightning, catching it with his fingertips. It felt like holding a tigerdillo by the tail, or like what he imagined it might feel like being the source of the immense power that overwhelmed everything when Aang went into the Avatar State. His skin didn’t just tingle, it crackled, from every toe and finger all the way inward to his stomach, and up into every hair on his shaggy head. He felt the flow of chi within him, and directed it up and out his other arm.

Toward a familiar face.

The face of his father.

Reflected in a mirror.

Zuko blinked, and it was a dragon in the mirror instead. He blinked, and now it was Iroh. He blinked, and it was Azula. He blinked, and it was him again, but with no scar, and a bald head, and blue arrow tattoos. He shrieked, and blinked, and the mirror shattered into thousands of tiny shards, scratching at the soles of his feet as he scrambled backward into a pit and fell into darkness.

Zuko stood in the black nothingness, and saw a hand reach out. A soft laugh followed, one that Zuko couldn’t quite place. The hand reached closer, and the Prince shied back. Why was it reaching for his face? The laugh came again, but it was colder, darker. He knew that laugh.

He tried to back away, but the nothingness followed him. He tried to turn, but the black void turned with him and there, always there, was that hand, creeping toward his left eye. His heart raced. “You will learn respect,” said the voice, and the hand burst into bright yellow flame, “and suffering will be your teacher.”

The pain in his eye eclipsed everything. The nothingness outside was matched by the nothingness inside. Only pain existed, and that awful voice. Zuko tried to raise his arms, to shield his face, but the fire was in his flesh again, and touching it only made it worse.

“You have already seen so much suffering. Let me help you.” The voice cut through the pain, similar, deep and commanding, but somehow incredibly distinct in Zuko’s pain-filled mind. It was a voice to be trusted. Who was that?

The fire became ice instead, the pain faded, a hand grasped his gently. “I’m sorry I cannot heal the scar.” Zuko’s breath came fast and ragged, and his throat ached from screaming. He opened his eyes.

The ceiling of the Upper Ring house was clear through his right eye, and blurred slightly through his left. His bed was soaked with sweat. He turned his head to find a bucket of water beside him, and the stout figure of his uncle dozing against the wall. He reached for the bucket, and the movement woke the older man, who immediately knelt closer to Zuko’s side and helped him lift the water.

Zuko drank every drop this time. None was wasted. Iroh ran a gentle hand over Zuko’s forehead, careful to stay on the right side, and remarked, “Your fever seems to be going down.” He took the bucket and set it aside. “Rest now. You’ll feel better in the morning.” He pushed Zuko down onto the pillows, and Zuko stood up from the bed. His uncle tucked him in, and Zuko walked out the door, onto the streets of Omashu, and kept walking.

Then jogging.

Then running, as fast as he could. As far as he could. As high as he could. Maybe if he could get back to that mountaintop, things would be silent again. His own screams echoed in his mind, bouncing back and forth, becoming a din of nerve-rattling sound that bloated out the wind and trees and birds he passed. He wanted it to stop. He wanted the screaming to stop, he wanted the running to stop, he wanted the staring to stop, he wanted everything to JUST STOP!

Everything was still. He folated, frozen, suspended between rushed strides. Nothing moved around him. Above him, the sun’s orange light flickered, and grew stronger. He looked up, and saw two suns. One, yellow, steady, the sun he had always known, the one that fueled his inner fire. The second sun was huge, orange, flickering, with a long fiery trail showing where it passed.

Sozin’s Comet. Zuko felt a thrill of exhilaration in his blood. He had forgotten that it would return this year. The comet would give Firebenders a power they only saw once in a lifetime. The things he would be able to do, later this year, under the comet’s orange glow…

“Will you use it to destroy? Or will you hold yourself better?” Zuko turned his face away from the sky, and found Avatar Roku, dressed in flowing, formal Fire Nation robes, standing on the road before him, blocking his way. “It is your decision, Fire Lord Zuko,” he said, and his face shimmered and shifted. Now, dressed in flowing, formal Fire Nation robes, his mother met his eyes with an unmatched fierceness. The bright golden eyes had not changed. “You may be his son, but you are also mine. Never forget.”

The comet struck the road a few miles from them, and the concussive force knocked the breath from Zuko’s lungs several seconds before the blast of deafening sound drove him to his knees. He covered his ears, which left him vulnerable to the wave of all-encompassing fire that swept across the fields and hills, drowning everything in heat and ash.

No. He had to control the fire. He was a Firebender. The flames would obey him, whether they wanted to or not. He gritted his teeth and stood, in the torrent of flame, in the center of the road, alone in a charred ash wasteland, and he said Enough. That is enough.

The fire raged around him. This is what fire does. What did he expect it to do instead?

Zuko set his jaw and resisted. Not this. No more destruction. No more death.

Then what? The flames flickered uncertainly, recoiling from the determination of the Firebender. To burn is to destroy. If not that, what?

No, no destruction. To burn is to change things. Zuko raised his arms, and the flames left their charred homes, coming to rest in his control, above his hands. To burn is to change everything. To live is to burn, and to burn is to live. So no, no more death. No more destruction. Instead, change. Live.

The flames in Zuko’s hands danced. How can fire live without destroying?

The Firebender altered the flow of energy in his arm, first allowing the flames to flare up, then reducing them to a candle’s strength, and then stopping them altogether. Flame lives as energy. Energy is not destruction, it is power. It does what it is told, no more and no less. If it is not allowed to run amok, it will not destroy. If the Fire Nation is not told to raze the other Nations to ash, it won’t. It all came down to the one giving the commands.

Zuko gave the commands. Zuko would give the commands. He would take that power, when the time was right. It was his. He had suffered, he had learned, he had earned it. Rushing was useless; the power was his already. He turned his clenched fist over, pointed one finger at the portrait of his family that hung in their Summer beach house on Ember Island, and told the power to go there.

Last time he’d had this nightmare, everything had burned except his father’s face. Now, the flames obeyed him. Now, they burned only his father’s face. Ozai was a horrible leader, a power-mad warmonger, a devastating imbalance, an unjust man. Zuko would be different. No, he was different already. The power was his to control. The justice was his to dispense. The balance was his to restore.


	41. The Guru

Zuko opened his eyes, and was relieved to see only the unchanging wood support beams of his room in the Upper Ring house. He could hear his uncle’s deep breathing from the chair against the wall opposite the bed Zuko occupied. The old Firebender had stayed with him all night. The sun was starting to filter through the curtains.

Zuko turned his head to see his uncle, but the room started spinning, and a stabbing headache made him groan and stop moving. He heard movement from the chair, and knew he had managed to wake his uncle anyway. There were a few footsteps, the sound of the door creaking open, and then he heard Iroh say, “Aang, he’s awake.” The old Firebender stepped back and knelt beside Zuko. “Stay still; you’ve been out for a while now. How are you feeling?”

Zuko smiled at the morning sun, filtering softly into his room from the curtained window. “I feel,” he started, and paused. Different, that was correct but not right. Lighter? Filled with renewed purpose? Not quite, but close. His visions, whether they were spiritual or just hallucinations, put a few things in perspective for him. “I feel unbalanced, but good.”

Aang’s soft footsteps came into the room, and his orange robes swept just wide enough that Zuko could see them without moving his head. “You had us all worried,” the Airbender said with a soft chuckle. “Iroh was beside himself when I brought you here and had to leave again, but it was surprisingly easy to finish up with the Earth King. I’m glad I could be here when you woke.”

Zuko tried to sit up on one elbow, but the room spun in dizzying waves. Aang and Iroh both offered arms for support, and Zuko took one of them. It was too thin to be Iroh’s. He could feel his uncle’s hand against his back, propping him up. “Is Nini okay? What happened?” He groaned and rubbed his temples, careful to avoid the crinkled edges of his scar.

Aang knelt down and leaned closer so Zuko could see his face. “Nini is fine,” he wavered. “You brought her back to me.” Zuko matched Aang’s grateful smile, but was thankful the Airbender didn't try to hug him again. “As for the rest, we ploughed through the palace guard to see the King, and ended up flying him out to see the drill on the Outer Wall just to convince him the War was real.” He rubbed his hand over his smooth head. “After that, they gave us some stuff the Dai Li had been hiding from us, like a note from Hakoda for Sokka and Katara, though Katara wanted to stay and help the Earth King and his Generals build a plan, and also intel about Toph’s parents, so everyone went about their own business for a while.”

Zuko’s face fell. “Oh…” He had no family but his uncle. The rest were either dead, or intent on killing him. “So,” he tried to lighten the mood, “are you just waiting here for them to come back?”

The Avatar didn’t look nearly as awkward as Zuko felt when he chirped, “I was waiting for you to wake up!” His bright smile was everything that had been missing for the last month while they searched for Nini. “The Eastern Air Temple is close by, and I thought you might want to see it, since we’ve been to the Northern and Southern ones already.”

Something in the slant of the Airbender’s eyebrows made Zuko chuckle. “And no other reason at all?” He tipped his head, trying to get Aang to say the rest, but it made his head hurt so he ended up leaning against the wall instead.

Aang’s peaceful voice held just a hint of buried worry. “Zuko, I’ve tried to heal you, your uncle has tried different teas and herbs…” He sighed, and stopped burying his worry. “We don’t know why you only just woke, or why you are in pain.” The old Avatar thought about his words for a moment before he continued. “There is a man at the temple who might be able to help you.”

Zuko thought for a few seconds, listening to the birds singing outside. “There’s someone out there who can do things you can’t?” he joked, making sure to smile so his tired tone didn’t color it differently. He was relieved when Aang smiled back.

The journey was unpleasant, to say the least. Every bump or slant in Nini’s flight sent Zuko’s head spinning, and just when it started to settle, she would hit another bump, and the whole thing started over. His saving grace was that he had nothing in his stomach to throw up.

Iroh stayed behind to be there for Katara, and in case one of the other kids came back early, so it was just Aang and Zuko in Nini’s saddle. The Airbender clearly trusted the bison to find their way, because he stayed in the new saddle with Zuko, holding his head as still as possible, actively trying to heal the dizziness with Waterbending. Even though it was mid-morning when they left Ba Sing Se, it was late evening when Nini finally landed on a soft field of grass with a heavy sigh.

Aang put his water back in the pouch at his hip, and gently grasped Zuko by the arm. “Are you sure you want to walk? I can still carry you,” he offered, but Zuko set his jaw and blinked, determinedly. “Okay,” said Aang with a shrug. He set his feet. “One, two…”

Aang heaved, and Zuko pressed himself up onto his feet. Once he was there, he was glad of Aang’s steady arm to hold. It was several seconds before he could make sense of any of the swirling colors around him.

Nini had landed and was standing in a flat, grassy field, surrounded by other Flying Bison, some bigger, some clearly smaller and younger than her. It was night, and the great beasts were laying sprawled out on the grass, piled up on each other, a few little ones completely off the ground despite being asleep. Now that he knew what he was hearing, the sound of their steady breathing was a soothing rumble in Zuko’s ears, and their musty smell reminded him of dusty days and cold nights sleeping close to Ilah’s feathered flanks.

In the near distance, under the light of the full moon, the tall spires of the Eastern Air Temple glittered like liquid silver. Was this temple bigger than the others? The path to the temple doors was paved with immaculate, white stone, perhaps marble like what some Upper Ring houses in Ba Sing Se had. Aang stayed close to Zuko’s side as he stepped slowly to the edge of the saddle, eager to get moving down that path, to hopefully find a way to stand without help again.

To the Firebender’s chagrin, Aang had to lift him out of the saddle. There was nothing to be done for it. Even this way, Zuko retched from the motion, and would have fallen the moment his feet hit the grass if not for Aang’s support. After that, though, walking slowly to make absolutely sure his head moved smoothly, he was able to take cautious steps up the marble path toward the glittering temple.

When the two travellers crested the hill and approached the front archway to the temple, they stopped, surprised to find a thin, weathered old man with tan, leathery skin and a bushy white beard, meditating directly in their way.

Aang smiled. “Ah, the man himself! Zuko,” he looked between the exiled Prince and the wrinkled temple resident, “this is Guru Pathik. He is a spiritual brother to my people, and was a personal friend of my mentor, before the War.” The Guru opened his eyes, and Aang bowed with one hand, keeping the other still for Zuko’s support. “He helped me process my early life experiences, and in time, became my friend in his own right.”

The tiny old man smiled wider than Zuko had seen anyone but Aang smile, and thought he knew where the Airbender had learned it. “If Aang has brought you here, he trusts you very much,” the Guru remarked, “and there must be something I can help you with.” He stood on spindly legs like a gazentalope, and stepped up to greet Zuko with a quick handshake. “Now, let’s see…” The handshake quickly turned into Guru Pathik holding Zuko still while he placed a gentle thumb on his forehead.

The old man’s fingers were resting a little too close to Zuko’s scar for comfort. “What are you doing?” He couldn’t move his head without losing his balance again, but his eyes darted over the Guru, trying to find something that would tell him if this was dangerous. When he found nothing, he strained his eyes as far left as he could to look at Aang with questions.

Before the Airbender could do more than smile comfortingly, the Guru flinched, removed his hand, and stepped back. “Ah, I see the problem.” He waggled a finger at Aang, and then started walking away into the temple. “You could have warned me about that.”

“About what?” asked Zuko, befuddled by the broken conversation. “Do you know what’s wrong with me?”

Aang apologized, “I would have been hard to explain. Better for you to see it yourself.” Zuko glared out the corner of his eye at the Avatar, and Aang apologised to him, too. “It’s a hard thing to explain, and I don’t think I could do it justice. Better for you to hear it from an expert.”

The gangly old Guru picked up a small wood cup and returned to Zuko, placing it gently in his hand. “I do indeed know how to help you,” he started. “Drink this.”

Zuko carefully tipped his head down to look at the cup, and the pale, thick liquid inside. Was it some sort of medication? A new remedy to try? He glanced at Aang, but the Airbender just nodded encouragingly. Zuko took a sip, and promptly spat it out, making his head spin in the process. “Yeugh, what is that?” he groaned. “Tastes like onion and banana juice…”

“That’s because it is!” cheered Guru Pathik, easily drinking his own cupfull of the mush, and holding the empty cup over his head. “Yum yum!” Zuko stared at him, hoping for the laughter and ‘Oh, gotcha!’ that would mean this was a joke, but none came. He glared at the cup in his hands, and drank.

Onion and Banana Juice was a strange mixture. It was a thick drink, like porridge or cowpig milk, but it was almost, gloopy? The sharp flavor of onion contrasted with the sweet banana, but somehow the combination worked. It was a drink. If an odd one. Sweet, but savory, with a bite. It could have made a decent soup with the addition of some bacon, cheese, and a little cayenne pepper. Still not the most pleasant thing. Zuko gulped down the slurry as fast as he could, and set aside the wood cup.

Guru Pathik wandered away, and Aang motioned that they should follow him. Zuko was sure his discomfort was clear enough. He took careful steps after the old Guru, puzzling about why they weren’t going into the temple, but instead skirting the rocky edge and forcing the young Firebender to move so slowly. Pathik stopped and waited for them at every turn, leading them carefully out into the rocky mountainside.

When the gaunt old man finally stopped, Zuko blurted, “So what’s wrong with me? What are we doing here?” He looked around at the little stream that fell through several steps of rocks and miniature ponds between the two high walls around them. “The onion and banana juice didn’t help.”

“It’s not a cure,” said the Guru, picking his way over a few larger stones and returning with a long stick. “It is going to take work for you to fix what is ailing you.” Zuko started to protest, but he waved a finger in his face. “Ah ah, now, be patient. Aang was born around spiritual energy and moulded by this knowledge; for you it will be new and difficult to understand.” His eyes were steady, not angry or frustrated, but waiting. Zuko nodded, and then groaned at the movement.

The Guru patted his arm comfortingly, and waited for the dizzy spell to pass before he continued. “Energy from the universe flows through us all. We do not create it, we do not control it, we merely guide it and use it when we can.” He stepped up to the little stream of water, and Zuko spotted moss, lichen, and algae in the water, blocking most of the miniaturized waterfalls that allowed the stream to flow. “The energy flows through us like the water flows through this stream,” he explained, “predictable, patterned, steady. It swirls and pools in each of our chakras, and makes us feel whole and connected to our world in different ways.”

He pointed to the blockages in the small stream. “But life is messy, and sometimes things get caught in the stream of energy, blocking up the flow and making everything stagnant and stale.” He poked at one of the mossy blockages, and freed it, sending it flowing down the stream to knock into others and free them, too. “By opening the paths, we allow ourselves to be open to the energy, and to feel pure and whole.” Each of the pools of water was flowing freely now, and the dark, algae-clouded water was washing away.

The Guru stopped and smiled at Zuko, like that was all that needed to be said. Zuko stared back and challenged, “What does any of this have to do with this dizziness? How does this help me?”

The weathered old man smiled far more peacefully than Zuko would have liked. “I believe that you have recently experienced a major shift in how you perceive the world around you, and yourself. Am I right?” He waited for Zuko to think about it, and come to the conclusion that, yes, he actually had. Nothing was quite as he thought it had been before he met Aang on that icy tundra. Guru Pathik nodded. “Your energy has been so stopped up, blocked and stagnant for so long that, now that you have begun clearing yourself of your past misconceptions, it is hurting you.”

Zuko was taken aback. “So how do I get it to stop?”

“You don’t,” Pathik replied easily, and Zuko felt a familiar hatred for that optimistic smile. “You have outgrown your self-deception. You will not be able to go back.” The young Firebender gritted his teeth. He had to go back. As it stood, he couldn’t move, let alone fight or rule. “You can only go forward, clear all your chakras, and find who you are without all the emotional gunk.”

Forward? There was a way to push past this, instead of reversing it, then. Zuko didn’t have to think long. “Let’s do it.”


	42. The Eastern Air Temple

Guru Pathik led Aang and Zuko back up to the temple doors, and then down, into the belly of the structure. The air, already cool and dry from being so high in the mountains, was now downright cold, and smelled sharply of minerals. There was a steady kind of energy here, like the world stood still and nothing short of utter devastation could change it. Up on a stone boulder in the middle of a huge cave echoing with the sounds of little drips and scritches, Aang placed Zuko across from Guru Pathik, and sat beside him. 

The weathered old Guru took a seat on the rock surface, cross-legged and straight backed, with each hand resting palm up on a knee, and his thumbs and first fingers touching, making little circles. “There are seven chakras that go up the body,” he explained, and Zuko listened. “Each pool of energy has a purpose, and can be blocked by a specific kind of emotional muck.” He stared into Zuko’s eyes with intensity. “Be warned, opening the chakras is an intense experience, and I do not know how it will affect you physically. Things may get worse before they get better, and you must push through opening every chakra to be sure of getting better.” The old man was intent, and focused. “Are you ready?”

Zuko stared straight back. There was only one way, and this was it. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” He straightened his back and matched his hands to the Guru’s.

“Very well,” Pathik entoned, closing his eyes. “First we will open the Earth chakra, located at the base of the spine. This may be the most difficult for you. It deals with survival, and is blocked by fear. What are you most afraid of?”

If Zuko were being honest with himself, he would have said he was afraid of facing the things he feared. When he stayed silent, Aang glanced over at him, and nudged his elbow. “Fear is not a bad thing,” the Airbender offered with a soft smile. “Fear keeps us from doing reckless things and hurting ourselves. But when it becomes crippling, it is time to face it, and find a way past it.”

The exiled Firebender pursed his lips, closed his eyes, and breathed, “I am afraid of fire.” His heart fluttered anxiously to even say that. “I am afraid of Firebenders that are stronger than me, who could burn me. I am afraid of my father, and of becoming my father.” Despite the cold in the cavern, his skin tingled with heat, stronger and stronger. He thought the steady drips of water sounded too low, too deep, more like a slow, malicious laugh.

Guru Pathik’s calm voice echoed in the deep cavern. “Let your fears become clear to you.” Clearer than this? Zuko’s heart was already racing. The tingle of energy was too strong, burning, suffocating him. His scar burned, and the low laugh made his stomach tie itself in knots. He clenched his fists and tried to remember that none of it was real. But it burned. He couldn’t stop it!

A strong hand grabbed him by the wrist, and he struck out to free himself, opening his eyes to see an arc of yellow flames following after his fist, and a blue tattooed hand sweeping them harmlessly away. “Zuko, your vision is not real,” Aang’s steady tone thrummed within its own echoes in the chamber, giving it power and weight to overcome the Ozai in Zuko’s mind. “You are concerned for your survival, but you have already survived this moment, and grown stronger because of it.” He raised the wrist that he still held, showing Zuko his own hand, engulfed in bright flame. “You survived Ozai, you survived exile, you survived Yuyan Archers, and explosions that would have obliterated the helpless Zuko that spoke out of turn. You are not him anymore.” His kind gray eyes held Zuko’s gaze. “It is time to let him go. Let him flow down the stream.”

Zuko stared for a moment at his hand. Yellow flames… Aang released his wrist so he could turn his hand over, examining the flames. His Firebending had always been weak, red, cold compared to anyone else in the Royal Family. There was strength in this flame. He clenched his fist and cut off the flow of energy to the fire. He was not weak. He would not be burned again. He sat straight and breathed deeply, letting his fear slip down, away from his heart, through his spine and into the ground beneath him. Aang beamed with pride.

The old Guru smiled wide. “Congratulations. You have opened your Earth chakra!”

It took some time for the small group to climb the deep stone stairs to reach the next location. It was another cavern, this time with a thundering waterfall occupying one end of the room. Beyond the waterfall, the cavern opened to the outside air. Echoes didn’t last long here. Moss and lichen grew on many of the rocks, and bigger plants were clinging to the bigger boulders farther out from the waterfall, where the sun shone brighter during the day. For now, the first touches of dawn’s light were only just beginning to brighten the horizon.

Zuko’s head throbbed painfully as Aang helped him take the last steps up the stone pillar to where Guru Pathik had settled himself. “Next is the Water chakra,” said the spindly man, facing the waterfall and forcing Zuko to sit with his back to the crashing water. “This chakra is located at your hips. It deals with pleasure, and is blocked by guilt. Let’s take a look at all the guilt which burdens you so.” He placed his open hands gently in his lap, with the right one laying in the palm of the left and his thumbs touching each other in an arch above his palms.

Zuko matched the pose, and shut his eyes. He had plenty to feel guilty about. He had taken out his anger on those around him, from the very beginning of his time with Aang. He had tried, repeatedly, to imprison Aang and cart him away to the Fire Nation, even while the Moon Spirit themself had been in danger. And he had spurned his uncle’s help and left him to wander the wilderness alone. “I ran away,” he said, finally. “I refused to listen to anyone, and I left them to worry and fear for me, even get hurt because I wasn’t there.” He remembered kneeling over his uncle’s charred chest, demanding that Aang do something, anything, to help him. The desperation came flooding back to him, catching his breath in his throat.

The Guru’s voice was patient. “You must accept that these things happened. You cannot change the past; you can only look to the future. Make plans to apologize to the people you hurt, and allow yourself to be forgiven. It is the best way to ensure that your presence is a positive force in the world.”

Zuko opened his eyes. Beside him, the Airbender hummed a soothing note that blended with the steady crash of the waterfall. The exiled Prince would have to apologize to his uncle later, but Aang was right here. “I- I was so wrong,” he started, and gave a wry smile when Aang’s gray eyes flew wide in surprise. “You have helped me time and time again, been so patient and supportive, I didn’t know how to accept that. I hadn’t ever had that before, and I tried to take advantage of it.” A realization hit him, and the image of Aang with long gray hair and blue clothes, standing shocked and conflicted the first time he had heard Iroh say ‘Prince Zuko.’ “I can’t imagine what you thought of me when you learned who I was,” he breathed, praying to the Spirits of the Sun and Sky that the Airbender would understand. “But you still decided to help me, the great-grandson of the man who destroyed your home, the grandson of the man who systematically hunted your people to extinction…”

Aang leaned toward Zuko and wrapped him in a hug. After a moment of surprise, Zuko leaned in, wrapping his arms around the old Airbender and taking solace in the surprising comfort he found in the embrace. I took a few seconds for him to realize that, despite Aang’s habit of keeping to Zuko’s good side, the young Firebender had leaned his head against the man’s shoulder, and his scar had pressed into the orange fabric without the usual reactions.

The Airbender released him and sat straight. “I have my fair share of guilt about your family,” he grimaced in apology. “If I had been stronger, or more prepared, or more studious, I might have been able to stop all of this before it happened.” He heaved a sigh to hide a tear. “But the past is set. I only did what I thought was right; the fact that it wasn’t enough is not my fault.” He looked meaningfully at Zuko. “You only did what you thought was right. The blame is not yours to bear.”

Zuko nodded, and his head swam, but only slightly. He cautiously leaned up onto a hand, and pulled his foot under him. He was dizzy, for sure, but he pushed himself vertical, and then all the way to his feet, and he didn’t waver.

Guru Pathik led them up a path on the outside of the tall Temple mountain, to a spot that faced east. The sun was beginning to poke out, and the light and warmth of morning sent a thrill of energy through Zuko’s blood. Morning was the time of Firebenders. He took a deep, bracing breath, and almost ran into the Guru, who had stopped directly on the path and seated himself for meditation. 

“The third chakra,” the old spiritualist stated as if nothing at all had happened, “is the Fire chakra, located in your stomach.” Zuko quickly sat beside the Guru on the path, facing the rising sun and matching the position of his hands, palms flat together with fingers out and thumbs wrapped over each other, held up near his stomach instead of resting on his lap. “This chakra deals with willpower, and is blocked by shame.” Pathik’s calm voice was almost irritating. He kept asking for Zuko’s darkest inclinations, with the tone of someone who was guiding a child through tying their shoe. “What are you ashamed of? What are your biggest disappointments in yourself?”

Zuko took a deep breath, feeling the light and life of the morning wash over him. Was he disappointed in himself? He had never thought about it quite like that, but yeah, he supposed he was. But shame, he had plenty of that. The blurred edges of the beautiful vista before him reminded him of his shame. He shut his eyes. The scar on his face was his biggest source of shame, held permanently on display for the world to see and know his shame. But as the light of the morning sun touched him, he realized. He wasn’t disappointed in what he did to earn the scar. He was only disappointed that he hadn’t fought back. He had let Ozai maim him without a fight.

He knew it wasn’t his fault. He had done what he thought was right. There was no guilt there for him. But there was still some shame. He found a voice for it, “My scar…” but could say no more past the weight in his heart.

Guru Pathik nodded, sagely. “Ah, yes. It is a terrible injury, and more so for being so public.” The words hit home, and Zuko hung his head. “But this thing is a part of your past, and has changed who you are, and who you will become. The experience is a defining moment in your life.” Aang’s steady humm and the thrill of the sunlight kindled a feeling of peace in the young Firebender. “You could not be who you are today, or do the things you intend to do, without that piece of your past, exactly as it happened.”

Zuko faced the sun and took a deliberate breath, feeling and guiding the fresh energy from the morning in through his lungs and down to his stomach, like when he had learned to redirect lightning, but more fluid and free. When he exhaled, he sent his shame with it. It happened. That didn’t have to be okay. He would still take Ozai’s place, by force if necessary. But he would not be ashamed of it any more.

The hum from beside him paused, and Aang chuckled. “That chakra opened less like a flowing creek and more like a burping bison!” Zuko turned his head to smile at the Avatar, and he wasn’t dizzy at all.

The young Firebender eagerly followed Guru Pathik up the side of the mountain to an old, crumbling structure, set in the middle of a tall staircase. It was lined with cracked and weathered Air Nomad statues, like a resting point halfway up the mountain. Tall trees stretched green canopies over the walkway, and moss had begun to encroach on the building, taking root in the cracks. Here, the Guru sat amid the old statues, and directed his guests to sit opposite him, with their backs to the mountain and their faces outward to the green mountainside.

Aang took up a new hum, and it seemed to echo and magnify in the tall arched ceilings. Pathik met the young Firebender’s eyes, and launched into his explanation. “The fourth chakra is located in the heart. It deals with love, and is blocked by grief.” He held his left hand on his left knee, with the thumb and first finger touching, and brought his right hand up to his heart, where the circle of his fingers centered on what Zuko thought must be the center of the chakra. “Lay all your grief out in front of you.”

Zuko moved his hands, and closed his eyes. He had lost many things. His honor, his throne, his respect, his face, his cousin, his mother… The last one stuck with him. The last time he had seen her, she was walking away down the hall, hooded and dressed for long travel. She could still be out there, somewhere. His chances of finding her were still next to none.

The Guru didn’t know what Zuko’s specific thoughts were, but he knew grief. “The ones we have lost are never truly gone. This world works in circles. Sometimes things come back, other times they do not, and still other times we do not recognize them when they arrive. Love is another form of energy, and it swirls all around us. The love we part with invariably returns in the form of new friends, happy memories, and the family we build for ourselves.”

Zuko’s thoughts turned to Jin, the Earth Kingdom girl who had taken him on a date, then to Sokka and Katara laughing around a campfire, and Mai, probably following Azula around the world to hunt him down and capture the Avatar. He thought of Iroh, the father figure he hadn’t wanted, but had needed. He thought of Aang, and had to admit to himself that the Airbender was no enemy, not anymore. “Let the pain flow away.” The Firebender wasn’t sure which of the old men had spoken. His breath caught in his throat, and tears fell from his eyes.

He cried for his mother, for his cousin, for the pain that his uncle had endured, for Aang, for his face, for his home, for his childhood. Neither older man said a word, or offered support. Zuko just had to let it all out. He cried, and sobbed, until his eyes were puffy and sore, and a splotch of fallen tears had spread across his lap. Eventually, his breath came more steady, and his shoulders moved more easily, and he felt the weight of suppressed grief lift from him. He felt raw, empty, thin. This was not like the poets described it, like a release or a pleasant uplifting. But it did seem good. It was easier to breathe now, and he could feel the flow of clean, fresh energy around him and within him. His stomach growled. Softly, through a hoarse throat, he rasped, “Could I have some onion and banana juice, please?”

The Guru laughed, light and happy, and handed Zuko another cup. On the way up the steps to the next location, the Firebender sipped the drink, allowing the slurry to coat and soothe his throat, and thinking on the distinct duality of it. The two flavors, so disparate and conflicting, but existing balanced together. He thought he was beginning to understand why this was the drink Pathik had chosen. It wasn’t about energy or some spiritual benefit from the mixture, but an example to follow.

The next stop was inside a room high on the mountain, what must have been the peak of this part of the temple. There was a massive statue of an Airbender woman, crumbling in places just like everything else, that took up the majority of the floor space. Strong walls and high ceilings made the whistle of the wind echo back from the corners of the room. This time, Aang matched his hum to the pitch of the wind, and everything vibrated with sound. Zuko’s ears even seemed to tune in, giving him the illusion of silence within his head.

“The fifth chakra is the Sound chakra, located in the throat,” began Pathik, placing his hands in his lap with fingers interlaced, palms up and thumb tips touching. “It deals with truth, and is blocked by lies - the ones we tell ourselves.”

The moment Zuko closed his eyes, a memory sprang to mind, seemingly of its own volition. He remembered standing on the bow of his ship, the vibrations of the engine a familiar companion to the gentle sway of the waves. “I have to capture the Avatar. Then Father will welcome me home with honor.” He had been absolutely convinced of the truth of that. But the moment it had become anything but a wild gooseswan chase, Ozai had sent someone he thought would be more capable. The cruel Fire Lord had never intended for his disgrace of a son to succeed. Returning to the home of his childhood had always been impossible. When he returned, it would be on his own terms, and with honor he earned for himself.

Guru Pathik beamed. “Very good, Zuko! You have opened the chakra of Truth.” Aang continued his hum and meditation for longer, and Zuko wondered if the Airbender was having difficulty balancing this chakra. He didn’t know the man well enough to know why, but he supposed everyone had their demons to fight. He took the extra time to breathe and examine the energy within him. He had always been able to sense and control the main lines of chi. That was the first step in Firebending. But now, he could feel the flow of clean energy starting at the base of his spine, swirling upward and pausing at each point where a chakra sat along his center. With each breath in, his body connected with the energy of the world, drawing in new power from the ground. And with each breath out, the energy within him released what was not needed, back into the ground, to be cycled through the universe again.

The next chakra, he knew before the Guru told him, was located between his eyes. When the Airbender stood, Zuko was not surprised that there was a path upward, even though they were already at the highest point inside the building. They found their new location on the steps outside the chamber, facing west toward the setting sun, and all three took easy seats on the stone path. Pathik shared, “The sixth pool of energy is the Light chakra, located in the center of the forehead.” Zuko nodded, and placed his hands the way the Guru had, up at his chest like a formal salute, with his fingers curled in to press against each other, except for the middle fingers. The longest fingers were extended, pads pressing each other straight, like the highest point of an Avatar temple designed to catch the sunlight. “It deals with insight,” the willowy old man’s voice floated across the air, “and is blocked by illusion.”

This time, Pathik hummed and Aang spoke. “The greatest illusion of this world, is the illusion of separation.” He swept his arm out over the gorgeous landscape before them. “Even the separation of the four elements is an illusion. Water, earth, fire, and air,” he pointed first to the waterfall, then the high mountains, the sun, and the clouds, “all exist together in balance. Fire cannot burn without both air and earth, and would be snuffed out by too much water. Earth would be dust without water, and would not support life without air and fire. They are four parts of the same whole.”

Zuko remembered all the people he had met, the refugees he had seen, and all the kindness he had been shown despite being a Firebender. “Like the four nations,” he mused. No one had been able to tell the difference. There was no intrinsic quality that separated people from one another.

“Exactly!” The Avatar’s voice was pleasantly surprised. “That is an important thing for a leader of a Nation to understand. There are no differences between people, at least not any that matter. People are people, and want the same things for themselves and their families, regardless of where or how they are born.” The fading sunlight felt like a conclusion in Zuko’s mind, as he listened and accepted the Avatar’s wisdom. He felt the energy in his forehead swirl and clear, revealing the next blockage right at the top of his head. He breathed in the new, clean energy, and released the stale image of a divided world that had sustained him until now.

For the last chakra, all three of them made the climb up the side of the roof, to sit in a triangle atop the pinnacle of the structure. Around them, the darkness of early night revealed countless stars glittering like nothing else in the world. Below them, the clouds covered their view of the mountain and temple. Everything from here reached upward. Zuko could feel the absence of the sun’s invigorating energy, but still turned his face upward with a smile. The wind tousled his hair.

“The last chakra,” entoned Guru Pathik, letting his voice fade into the open air, “the Thought chakra, is located at the crown of the head. It deals with pure cosmic energy, and is blocked by earthly attachments.” An enraptured smile spread across his upturned face. “Many people have difficulty with this chakra, because bringing yourself into balance with the universe itself requires a different view of things. All the other chakras, Survival, Pleasure, Willpower, Love, Truth, and Intuition, hinge on physical ties, earthly attachments. But if you are able to separate yourself from your ties to this world, it does not negate your love, or your will, or your survival. It is merely a shift from needing these things, to appreciating that they are a part of your life for as long as they may be.”

Zuko sat, crossed his legs, and held his hands in front of his stomach, palms together, fingers interlaced, pinkies up straight. “It’s a surrender to the will of Destiny?” He glanced at Aang, and a few of his more eccentric qualities fell into place.

“In a sense,” said the Guru. “You are a piece of the universe, experiencing itself from a minute scale. Your decisions may seem inconsequential, but they are also the universe’s decisions, and have far-reaching effects that you may never know. Having this chakra in balance allows us to feel the flow of cosmic energy, to understand and control our own thoughts and actions, rather than be controlled by them.” He breathed deeply, and set his spine straight, bringing his face down to center. “Meditate on what attaches you to this world.”

The Firebender turned his attention inward, and brought to mind images of people and things he cared about, wanted, needed in his life. He thought of Iroh, Aang, his family meant something to him even if that something was bad. Ozai was an attachment, as was the throne Zuko would take from him. Katara was there, and Sokka, and Toph, his first friends. Mai was there, tugging at him, another thing pulling him back to the Fire Nation. His mother was there, asking him to search, to discover her fate.

That sealed it. He might be able to separate himself from the fates of the others, and let each one including himself float into whichever place Destiny sent them without complaint, but he needed to know about his mother. He couldn’t separate himself from that. He could never be at peace with the movement of the universe without knowing where that piece was.

Zuko felt the flow of energy upward through his body hit an impenetrable wall there. Instead of the lifting and opening feeling he’d had when the other chakras came into balance, he felt a sinking weight on the top of his head, like a vague headache. He sighed heavily, and opened his eyes.

Guru Pathik sat still and silent, deep in peaceful meditation at the pinnacle of the temple. Avatar Aang sat still, orange robes whipping around him as the wind rushed in tight circles. His eyes were closed, but his tattoos glowed brighter than the moon in the sky.

The young Firebender watched. Was this normal? Maybe this was just what happened when an Avatar tuned in to their seventh chakra. He had no way of knowing. The only thing to do was wait and see.

After a few minutes of sitting and glowing, Aang flinched and bared his teeth in a snarl. So there was something wrong. The wind stopped, the sounds of robes snapping ceased, and Aang’s tattoos faded back to flat blue lines as he opened his eyes and leapt to his feet. “We have to go.”

“What’s wrong?” Zuko tried to keep the worry from his voice, instead trusting Aang to tell him what was necessary. Pathik roused himself and gave a quizzical look.

“Katara is in chains in Ba Sing Se,” the Airbender stated flatly, a look of determination taking him over. “Something has happened.”

Zuko stood. “Then let’s go.”


	43. The Crossroads of Destiny

Nini flew low and fast over the water. The night air held a biting chill that Zuko hadn’t felt since Winter had given way to Spring. It was the last bit of cold before Spring finally yielded to the coming Summer. With nothing to do but wait and let Nini fly, Zuko had dozed for a few hours in the saddle, and now the sun was rising. Ahead of them, the shore of Chameleon Bay was growing, and the mountains of the Earth Kingdom behind it cast long shadows in the morning’s soft glow.

A group of blue-clad sailors gathered on the beach as they noticed Nini’s approach. With a grunt, the bison touched down in the space they left for her, and Aang leapt down from his seat. “Hakoda! So good to see you again,” he beamed, and clasped one man’s arm in greeting. “Sorry to cut this short, but I need your son.”

Sokka poked his head around some of the other Water Tribe Warriors, and then pushed forward. “I know that face,” he groaned with a touch of concern. “Something’s wrong.”

The older Warrior gave a sad smile. “Then you should go. Help the Avatar.” Sokka’s crestfallen expression was plain to read, and Hakoda knelt in the sand to comfort his son. “It’s okay. You are needed elsewhere. We will see each other again.” He hugged Sokka tightly, and if Zuko hadn’t been able to read lips, he wouldn’t have known Hakoda murmured to his son, “I am so proud of you.”

The young Warrior wrapped his arms around his father’s shoulders and pulled as hard as he could, leaning into his chest. Zuko looked away. That was all he’d ever wanted from Ozai, and it was everything Ozai had insisted on denying to both of his children. Zuko couldn’t remember a time the Fire Lord had hugged either of them, let alone like that. And he knew now, it would never happen. It was just not who Ozai was.

As soon as Sokka was in the saddle, Nini pumped her tail and rose into the sky again, angling their path to take them straight back to Ba Sing Se. The Water Tribe boy sat at the back of the saddle near Zuko, and prodded, “So, last time I saw you, you’d fainted.”

“I didn’t faint,” Zuko insisted, “I was unconscious. Apparently, my chakras needed balancing.” Sokka nodded thoughtfully, and Zuko turned his head to face his friend. He took a bracing breath and focused on the willpower in his third chakra, the weight in his stomach. “I am a little ashamed to admit I haven’t exactly been the best travelling companion,” he started, and Sokka’s wide eyes turned to stare. “I’m going to do better, and I’m going to be a man worthy of leading a Nation.”

Sokka first looked alarmed, then confused, and settled into a fierce smile. “I’ll hold you to that,” he promised, and swung his arm out toward Zuko. What was he doing? The Firebender flinched, but Sokka caught him by the forearm, and shook it in a Water Tribe salute.

After a moment of shock, Zuko took hold of Sokka’s forearm and shook back. “Thank you.”

“So what happened?” the young Warrior asked, sitting back against the saddle with his face to the wind.

Zuko shrugged, but his face was stern. “We were working with the chakra of cosmic energy, and Aang just sprang to his feet, saying Katara was in chains and we had to go.”

A shadow fell over Sokka’s eyes. “Suki was supposed to be at the palace, too,” he muttered. “What happened?”

Nini made a quick banking turn, and flew lower to the ground. From up near her head, the boys heard Aang call, “Keep quiet for a bit. This is Toph, and she won’t be able to see us at first. I’ll get her attention.”

They looked over the side of the saddle and spotted what had drawn the Airbender’s eye. A mound of earth, rolling like a wave down the road at breakneck speed, with a tiny green-clad figure riding on top. Nini flew up beside and slowed to match Toph’s speed, and Aang stood. He brought a strong hand up in front of him, and a fist-sized rock flew up from the dusty road to float along in front of him. With a fast spin of his hands, like spinning up a small whirlwind, he crushed the stone to dust and in fact created a whirlwind, with Earthbending instead of Airbending.

Toph’s mound of moving earth slowed, and stopped, and Nini landed on the road beside the little Earthbender. “No one but you could make rock move like air, Twinkle Toes,” she yelled up at them.

“Need a ride?” Aang called back, grinning ear to ear.

Toph stomped and launched herself up onto Nini’s saddle. “Hey, Sparky. Feelin’ better?” She stepped carefully to the back of the saddle with the boys, swaying uncertainly when Nini stood up and took off again.

Sokka gave her his hand for support, and Zuko nodded noticeably. “Yup, just had some old demons to face, nothing anyone here would be surprised about.” He tapped his forehead with his left hand, above his scar.

“What’s in your past that made you faint?” she asked bluntly.

Zuko’s jaw dropped. Could she not see it on his face? Oh… No, she probably couldn’t. Had anyone told her about his face? She had been with the group since Zuko joined back up, right before they went out into the desert, and he couldn’t remember saying anything about it. It just never came up.

The blind Earthbender didn’t look at him, but she was looking at him, head cocked to the side. “Close your mouth, Sparky,” she sighed. “Clearly it’s something visible and I can’t see.” She sat beside Sokka and kept a hand on his arm. “If you wanna tell me about it, you can,” she offered, surprisingly unbothered, “or I can be the only person who doesn’t know and doesn’t act like you’ve got a big splotch on your face.”

Their heartbeats must have given them away. Zuko sure felt like he’d been punched in the ribs. He tried to take a breath and steady himself. The imaginary worst thing she could think of, the most public and humiliating option in her mind, was accurate. Toph’s face fell, and she murmured, “Oh, fuck, it is something with your face, isn’t it?”

Zuko caught a look from Sokka that said, ‘I won’t say anything, you can decide,’ and tried again to take a steady breath. His voice still shook as he said, “You were almost spot on about the splotch, too.” He waved off her look of horror, and this time his voice was solid. “It’s old, and it doesn’t hurt anymore. I don’t need your pity.” It came out harsher than he wanted, and she wouldn’t be able to see a small smile to know he wasn’t mad, so he sighed and added, “Really, Toph, it’s fine.”

She was clearly unconvinced, but she shrugged it off. “So why are we rushing back to the city?” She tapped Sokka on the arm, “I thought you were spending some time with your dad.”

The Water Tribe Warrior leapt at the opportunity to change subjects, even if it was to this. “Aang had a vision that Katara was in trouble.” He looked down at his hands. “And Suki was supposed to be there to take care of anything that went wrong,” he murmured. “Something terrible is happening.”

Nini crested the Outer Wall, and the city of Ba Sing Se lay before them. At the speed she was flying, it would only be another few minutes before they were within sight of the Palace. The Inner Wall was already growing close, and the strong morning sun had driven the chill from the air completely. Zuko raised his face to feel the sun, and took a deep breath, feeling the energy course through him like hot tea on a cold Winter morning.

His uncle was in the city, too. If anything had happened to Katara, the Dragon of the West would not have been kind. What in the world had happened, if both of them were incapacitated? No, he shouldn’t think like that. Aang’s vision had only included Katara. Maybe it was wrong, or figurative. Maybe everything was fine. Or at least, maybe it was just Katara, and Aang and Iroh would find her and free her in just a moment. He could already picture the indomitable Waterbender sending a whip of water at a Dai Li agent, while Aang held him still in an Earthbending grip and Iroh slid a fire dagger at his throat. Okay, maybe not. Iroh was more the defensive type. More likely he would cause flames to flow along the ground and knock the enemy over, making him more vulnerable for the others.

Although, he had been a General. It wouldn’t do to forget that. Iroh would do what was necessary, especially if the pacifist wouldn’t. Then again, when push came to shove, Aang had shown himself to be more than capable of violence. He just didn’t like killing. Which was understandable, really. Zuko felt a little more comfortable. Between the two of them, there was nothing that could really stand in their way. Katara, along with the rest of them, would be just fine.

Nini flew over the Inner wall, and the Lower Ring slums. A few seconds later, they were approaching the Middle Ring. A flock of birds squawked as she barreled through the middle of their formation. Now they were above the Upper Ring, and within sight of the palace. She started to slow only as they bore down on the main door, and landed heavily on the flagstones of the courtyard.

“Let’s go.” Aang leapt to the ground and strode forward, daring any of the Palace Guard to stop him. Zuko, Sokka, and Toph quickly followed in the wake of his billowing orange robes, casting nervous glances - or in Toph’s case, ears - around at the ranks of spears and musclebound Earthbenders.

Sokka and Toph had been here before, but not Zuko. He kept a quick pace to keep up with Aang, but all around, tall pillars of gold filigree and ornate doors encrusted with gems sparkled in the sun. It was meant, he knew, to be impressive. It was unsettling. Every step he took felt more and more like home, and he knew now what that meant. When the small group stood before the magnificent golden doors of the Earth King’s Throne Room, it was all Zuko could do not to shake. The last time he had been in a room like this…

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The energy here was different. No volcanoes around to mimic the sun’s power from below. The scents that wafted through the windows and down the hall were of dust, dirt, and growing things, not salt and sulfur. The sounds of birds and people echoed through the structure, but there were no sounds of waves crashing against the beach, or rumblings of warships or tanks. Even the scrape of the massive doors opening was different from the heavy curtains and drapes that stood in for elegant doors within the Fire Nation palace. This place had no need of that kind of freely-circulating air to clear out the hot, humid sea breeze. This was not the Fire Nation, Zuko firmly reminded himself. He opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw were massive golden eyes, directly above and behind a regal man in a golden throne. His breath caught in his throat. He shut his eyes again and breathed. It’s not the Fire Nation, it’s not those eyes. It’s not that man. It can’t be. When he looked again, he payed attention to the smooth arch of the carved badgermole’s back, instead of its fierce face. He focused on the emerald of the walls, instead of the gold sconces mounted to them. Aang was already halfway to the throne, with Sokka close behind. Toph was still just standing beside and behind Zuko.

She had noticed something was off, and stayed. She had to have known it wasn't anything outside, since no one else had reacted, and he hadn’t warned anyone. She had known it was in his head, and stayed to be there if he needed anything. The Firebender stepped forward without a word to her, but tapped his toe in his shoe twice. He hoped she got the message.

Ahead of them, Aang was accosting the Earth King. “Kuei, I swear on your mother’s grave, if Katara is even a bit short of breath when I see her next-”

“Katara is fine,” insisted the thin, straight-backed man on the blocky throne. “She and the Kyoshi Warriors went out for some lunch. They should be back anytime now.” King Kuei adjusted his glasses, and Zuko was certain the man was less than happy with how long the girls had been gone. But he smiled and bubbled, “If anything were wrong, Bosco’s animal instincts would tell us.” He waved a nonchalant hand at the furry creature beside him. So that was the bear? Zuko remembered the birthday invitation almost a month ago now, and the confusion about what kind of bear Bosco might be, but this? This creature was just a bear. It was the bear-iest bear he had ever laid eyes on.

Aang swept past Zuko and Toph, and Sokka took them by their shoulders as he passed, pulling them along out of the Throne Room and back down the long hallways to the front gate of the palace. Aang was quiet, but Sokka was not. “Katara wouldn’t stay gone, especially not with this much to do to prepare for the Day of Black Sun. And Suki wouldn’t just cart Katara off to lunch, she would want in on the planning, too. She’s a brilliant strategist; it’s where she should be. And Iroh, where is he? It wouldn’t be easy to take him on.” He kept rambling like that, his mind latching on to each and every inconsistency, and by the time they reached the door and saw Nini in the courtyard, they were all convinced. Something about this just wasn’t right.

Aang stopped at the top of the stairs, and pitched his voice low and quiet. “Toph, how far can you see underground?” Zuko noticed the man’s hand twitch, and looked around to find the thin line in the dust on the ground that meant their sounds were being controlled. He found it. Aang was suspicious of spies. Dai Li.

“About a mile,” the Earthbender answered, “more if I concentrate.”

“Please concentrate, then,” replied Aang patiently, standing stock still to avoid drawing attention.

Toph crouched and placed her hand flat on the stones of the stairs. No one moved or spoke. Finally, she opened her eyes wide and breathed, “Wow…”

Sokka tried to contain his anxious jittering. “What is it? Can you see Katara?”

“Not yet,” Toph answered, “but I’m looking. There’s a whole city down there. And people. Long Feng’s in jail, Katara’s there! She’s okay,” she said to waylay the flood of concerned questions. “Your uncle is there, too,” she said, tipping her chin in Zuko’s direction, “and bound. I have no idea how they did that. It had to be Dai Li. It’s their bonds.”

“So where are the Kyoshi Warriors?” asked Sokka.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I only met Suki, and she’s not here.”

Aang spoke up next. “Can you release Iroh?”

Toph pursed her lips and stood. “I did, but I don’t know how much help that’ll be. They’re deep in a cave with thick walls.”

The Avatar stood still for a few moments longer, and Zuko could see the muscles of his jaw working, thinking. Then, “There’s more to this than just what affects me.” Zuko felt like the ground had fallen away under him. Of course. “Someone in the city is powerful and cunning enough to capture the Dragon of the West. They will have a reason more than just to slow me down.” Aang turned back to face the palace. “Ba Sing Se is under threat.”

Sokka looked to Aang with determination and asked, “What do we do?” A perfect subordinate. Zuko was already thinking of a plan. His uncle would not have gone quietly, so Firebending was on the table, with discretion. Who was the target? The King, the generals, Long Feng? Who was the culprit? Ozai, Azula, Long Feng?

The young Firebender proceeded with deliberate evenness. “There are few options for someone who would have this kind of power and influence. I can think of three, Ozai, Azula, or Long Feng.” He paused as Aang nodded thoughtfully, then continued. “If it is Long Feng, the targets will be the Earth King and all the Generals. If it is one of my family, those targets will include Long Feng himself. And if it’s Azula, then you and I are on that list, too.” He met Aang’s steady gray eyes. “Either way, the King and the Generals are in the line of fire.”

“That is a good assessment of the situation, Zuko,” Aang praised, “well done.” He turned to the other kids, leaving Zuko with a sense of shock. He had spoken up, shared his view, and been praised… Aang was saying, “We can’t just grab our friends and run; there is more at stake than that. We have to at least try to save the Earth Kingdom.” Zuko nodded in his haze, and saw Sokka and Toph agree. “I need to be the one up here, so I can handle the threats to the King as quickly and painlessly as possible. Sokka, I think you should come with me.” The Warrior clenched his jaw and nodded. Sokka was not a bender, and had to stick by the Avatar to be sure of his safety. “Toph, you’ll need to dig down to get Iroh and Katara, and Zuko, I want you to use every bit of that anger buried in your heart to defend them. Understood?”

It was an order from a commander, and Zuko answered automatically. “Yes, sir.” Aang was proud of him, and had entrusted him with the safety of his wards. His friends. The young Firebender felt the thrill of battle turning in his stomach, and the humming energy of the sun in his limbs. He turned exhilarated eyes to Toph and said, “Lead the way.”

The Earthbender shrugged her shoulders and started down the grand stairs to the courtyard. It wasn’t long before they reached the bottom, and Toph started digging. With a shift to plant her feet and a strong outward sweep of her forearms, the ground before them moved aside, and they stepped forward into the tunnel. After two more movements, Toph shut the entrance behind them, and Zuko lit a candle of flame in his palm for himself.

After another two additions to the length of the tunnel, Toph piped, “So… you wanna talk about what happened at the door?”

Not really. Zuko pursed his lips, but realized she wouldn’t be able to see that. “Just another one of those demons from my past,” he grumbled, and reminded himself that he was out, he was safe, his candle flame was yellow.

They walked in silence for a few more steps, and then Toph stopped and dropped her arms. Zuko turned to see her, and her expression was flooded with shock and horror. “Someone did this to you,” she whispered, not wanting to believe. “Someone in the palace put a big, painful splotch on your face.”

Familiar feelings of shame and guilt threatened to overwhelm him, but Zuko crushed them back down and resolved to meditate later to clear them from his mind completely. His voice was more emotionless than he wanted, but it worked. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He took another step down the tunnel, but Toph didn’t move.

“No! You get back here, Sparky, and you tell me who did this to you so I can find them and break their bones from the inside out!”

Zuko stopped short, and turned in shock to see his friend’s fury. Every muscle in her tiny frame was tense, fists clenched, feet squared as if for battle. Her milky eyes were held up, staring through to his soul. She was, what, twelve? And she was fully prepared, right now, to face whatever he gave her. Zuko chuffed, and then chuckled, and then laughed out loud. Here he was, afraid of fire itself, and this little girl was prepared to go to war for him.

Toph’s shoulders fell. “What? Did I stutter?”

Through fits of laughter, Zuko gasped, “No, that’s not-” He sat down in the dark tunnel, and set his little candle on a rock to protect it while he laughed. It felt really good. His cheeks stung from the unfamiliar stretch. “I just- you are ready to jump into battle with the Fire Lord because I froze at a palace door.” The words tickled him, and he fell back into a new fit of laughter. He leaned back against the rock wall and let it come. The tension that he had taken for granted for so many years in his shoulders and back melted. There was precisely zero chance of being ambushed here. It was okay to let his guard down.

Slowly, the laughing subsided, leaving the Firebender breathing heavily and pressing on his sore cheeks. When he looked for her, he found Toph, sitting on her knees in front of him with a face full of both wonder and sadness. He wiped tears from his eyes, and joked, “What? Is there something on my face?”

The blind Earthbender gave a soft smile. “Nope, not that I can see.” She stood and punched the air, extending the tunnel again. “Ya know,” she mused as Zuko stood to follow her, “I understand. My parents didn’t hurt me, or banish me, or put a big splotch on my face, but that kind of thing will stick with you. There’s nothing shameful about remembering your pain. It helps us learn.” She punched again, and the tunnel wall receded. “Did you learn from it?”

Zuko stared into the yellow flame flickering in his palm. “I thought I had,” he mumbled. “There was a lesson I was supposed to learn. ‘Know your place.’” He spat the words like a curse, and then let his remembered venom subside. “But I think the actual lesson was far more simple. And more complex. Ozai is a terrible person. And he has made the Fire Nation a terrible place.”

The next movement Toph made sent the earth in front of them tumbling out and down into a small cavern, lit on all sides by glowing turquoise crystals protruding from every stone surface. Sitting in the middle of the floor were Iroh and Katara, knees facing each other but heads turned toward the sound of the Earthbender.

The captives stood, and all four rushed together, Iroh wrapping Zuko in a bear hug and Katara embracing Toph. “Nephew!” the old Firebender cried softly into Zuko’s good ear. “I am so happy you are back on your feet.” He held his nephew out at arm’s length and looked intently into his eyes. “You look happy,” he remarked with a smile.

Zuko smiled back. “Aang helped me work through a lot of things. Come on,” he urged and pulled on his uncle’s sleeve. “There’s a coup happening at the palace, and Aang and Sokka might need our help.”

Toph opened a new tunnel in the far wall of the cavern, and she and Katara stepped through. But just before Zuko stepped foot on the darker, crystal-free stone of the manmade path, there was a glassy rumble, and his uncle’s shirt was pulled from his grasp. “Uncle!” He turned to find the old Firebender completely encased in crystals, stabbing up from the ground to trap both of his hands and his head. The look on his face was searing fury, and his eyes seemed to glow with reflected crystal light.

Another rumble behind him made Zuko turn again, only to find the tunnel closed off. There were Earthbenders who wanted him here. Well then. He would show them why that was not a good idea. He turned back toward his uncle, and finally spotted the Dai Li agents, landing one by one on the floor of the crystal cave. And behind them, walking lithely around protruding pillars of stone and crystal, was Azula. Shit.

“Have you met the Dai Li?” sang the Fire Princess, staring maliciously at her family. “They’re Earthbenders, but they have a killer instinct that’s so Firebender. I just love it.”

Zuko stepped around the mound of crystals, and planted his feet, slowly so as not to draw attention. “Release him immediately,” he commanded his little sister, and was proud of the strength in his voice. Azula always lies.

“Or what, you’ll challenge me to an Agni Kai?” Before Zuko could issue the formal challenge, she waved him off and tittered, “I refuse. Honestly, I expected this kind of treachery from you both. After everything you’ve done, did you expect to live your lives in peace and anonymity?” She scoffed. “Your identity is written all over your face.”

She was trying to play him, to knock him off balance. Azula always lies. Iroh glanced back and forth between his niece and nephew, trying to gauge the direction of the conversation. “Zuko, your destiny is your own. Don’t let her push you into a course you do not think is right.”

“Why don’t you let him decide, Uncle?” Azula snapped, and then immediately switched back to a calm smile. “It’s not too late for you, Zuko. You can still redeem yourself. I have plotted every move of this day, this glorious day in Fire Nation history. It would be a more spectacular win if I had you beside me, instead of chained in this cave.” She took his silence for indecision. “At the end of this day, you could have your honor back. You could have Father’s love. You could have everything you want.”

Azula always lies, and that wasn’t even a particularly good one. Zuko glanced at his uncle, who was visibly uneasy with Zuko’s silence. “Zuko, I am begging you…” The young Firebender took stock of where everyone was. Azula to the left, seeing his scarred side. Iroh to his right, seeing every fluid movement of his unscarred eye. He winked, just the slightest movement, and the only response he got was a settling of his uncle’s features, into a mask of defeat. They were on the same page.

Zuko set his face in determination, and raised his head to stare pointedly at his sister. “What’s the plan, then?”

Azula grinned, and motioned to the Dai Li behind her, who stepped around and freed Iroh from the crystals, binding his wrists and ankles with their rock gloves. Zuko was sure he could still Firebend, but it would be difficult to fight, and that was what mattered. He would have to find a way to free him later. His sister was explaining, “We have the Avatar in chains, as well as the Water Tribe peasant he was found with. We will track down your girlie friends, and that will be the whole group of miscreants that’s been causing so much mayhem recently.” Her pet Dai Li agents dug tunnels for them to pass through, curving this way and that, never touching another cavern. “All five Generals are in custody, as well as the Earth King, finally.”

Zuko took a shot. “Did you see his bear?”

Azula’s laughter chimed like ice through the tunnel. “I did! What kind of bear was that?” She waved a dismissive hand. “No matter. The creature will be eliminated once we are sure of the Earth King’s cooperation.”

Another friend to save, then. Zuko added Bosco to the list. “So who’s left?”

Azula preened, “The only obstacle after this is Long Feng, the leader of the Dai Li. But he won’t fight. He knows nothing of the kind of power it takes to rule. You and I were born to it. People like him will always serve people like us.”

The clanging chains on Iroh’s limbs made Zuko less than talkative. He knew he would need his uncle, and Aang, and likely all three of the others. Each of them filled a hole, a need of the group. They were better together. But for now, all there was to do was wait. And walk.

Eventually, the Dai Li Earthbenders brought them into a wide open chamber, still underground and lit by crystals on every surface. The massive pillars of stone and the functional fountain in the center made it seem like this was an old, ruined city, buried under the towering walls of new Ba Sing Se above. It was a square, a town square buried beneath the biggest Royal Palace in the world.

And running in from the other direction, definitely freed of any chains, was Aang. Behind him was Katara, and farther back in the grand hallway stood Toph, Sokka, and the Earth King clutching the neck ruff of his bear. Zuko stifled the urge to sigh in relief. The Earth Kingdom would not fall today. Aang had it under control.

Azula shrieked and leapt forward, sending a blast of blue flame at the Avatar. “How did you escape? All your bonds were metal!”

A flurry of blue strikes forced Aang to defend himself, waving away the fire like so much dust. “The Fire Lord cannot have the rest of the world.” He sent a blast of air back, knocking Azula aside. “The Avatar will not allow that imbalance.”

Zuko was content to wait for Aang to finish off the Fire Princess, but the Dai Li agents behind him leapt into the fray, and more came pouring from holes in the walls, crowding the square with dark-clad Earthbenders. Azula landed lightly on her feet, and fired back, “The Avatar is outdated, and unnecessary.” She took turns aiming blasts at face and feet, to throw the Airbender off.

But Aang was more than an Airbender. He spun and kicked, redirecting the blue flames back at their source, and Azula had to block her own face. Then, with a heavy stomp, Aang rocked the earth beneath her feet, making her stumble toward the fountain.

Azula took only one faltering step, and planted the second step firmly in place. With a healthy spin, a wave of flames arced away, which Aang split and drove to the ground to be snuffed out in the dust. Azula took that moment to leap upward, driving a powerful heel down toward Aang while the Avatar was focused downward on the flames.

Zuko saw Katara rush forward to help, but she barely made it two rows in to the Dai Li agents before all her fighting water was thick mud, and she was fighting hand-to-rock. Even without water to bend, she was phenomenal. A fourteen-year-old girl, laying waste to huge Earthbender after huge Earthbender, using her small, agile movements to her advantage, having them hit each other in their zeal to land a blow on her.

Aang spotted Azula’s attack at the last moment, and a sphere of rushing air knocked her aside without more than a scowl from Aang himself. She flipped around in the air to land sideways on one of the big pillars, and kicked back toward her target. Another sweep of Aang’s arms sent her flying again, but she used jets of flames from her feet to direct her fall and again land on her feet, primed for counterattack.

Katara yelped as a heavy blow finally struck home. Zuko looked over and found the Waterbender surrounded by tall men, many of whom appeared to stumble over nothing and regain their footing over and over. He looked to Toph, still standing in the tunnel with Sokka and Kuei, doing a personal Earthbending demonstration. Toph was helping from afar, where the Dai Li wouldn’t be able to touch her, but their numbers were still overwhelming. The blind girl spun and kicked and flailed, the Waterbender dodged and shifted and flipped the men over her shoulder, the Avatar blocked and parried and blasted, and they were losing ground.

Zuko had to do something. He dashed forward into the closest battle, between Aang and Azula. If this one were over, Aang could help the others. When he reached them, his born family and his chosen one, the combattants paused, waiting to see which side he would join. Azula breathed heavily in the brief respite, Aang’s demeanor was solid. The Airbender was still trying not to hurt the Princess.

Zuko spun on his heel and sent a pinpoint dart of compressed fire at his sister’s nose. The shocked look in her eyes was darkly amusing. She had to decide whether to block the hit or take it, whether her brother was capable enough to warrant the effort. She would have to admit he was worthy of engaging in battle, or die by this stroke.

Very quickly, everything shifted. Zuko felt like the weight of all the rock and palace above him was pressing down on the cavern. Everything was so small and fragile, insignificant before the might of nature itself. His dart of flame dissipated into nothing before Azula could react. A wall of stone rose between them. Zuko looked to Aang and saw the Avatar, glowing, hovering on self-made air currents, orange robes whipping about in his gale. “This ends now.” The voice was overwhelming, deafening, and terrifying.

The Avatar rose into the air, turning to the stunned faces of the Dai Li agents, huddled around a bruised and bloody Katara. Their numbers had finally overwhelmed her, and Aang had reacted. With a wide swirl of his arms, the water from the fountain overflowed and flooded the entire cavern, and then froze solid, locking everyone’s feet in place. The cavern’s many pillars vibrated from the cutting wind they were never intended to withstand.

The hair on the back of Zuko’s neck stood on end. His skin tingled with energy. Aang stared down his enemies with blazing white eyes, and they fell to their knees one by one.

A last of light blinded Zuko, and a crash of sound deafened him. The ringing in his ears was all-encompassing. He realized he had fallen to the ground, though his feet were still frozen. What was that? He’d never seen Aang do that before. He blinked to clear the spots from his eyes, and searched for Aang’s orange robes.

They were not in the air where he’d last seen them. They were not standing before the Dai Li in command. Zuko glanced left and right, and saw a smouldering heap of dull orange fabric, with a hole burnt through revealing a huge, red, angry wound. “NOOO!!” Was that him, or Katara, or Toph, or Iroh? It could have been all of them. He still couldn’t hear.

The Waterbender melted the ice around her feet and sprinted for the pile of burnt robes. She fell to her knees, shaking, and hesitantly reached forward, lifting Aang’s bald, blue-tattooed head into her lap. Zuko could just hear a high, maniacal laugh from the other side of the earthen wall beside him. Azula had shot Aang from the sky with lightning.

Some soldier’s instinct kicked Zuko’s mind into gear. There was no time right now to wonder how, or why. There was a problem to be dealt with right now. The rest would have to wait. He sent a compressed fireball at the ground beside his feet and cracked the ice holding him there. At the same time, he heard a crash and saw Iroh leap from his captors’ grasp. They converged on Azula.

Zuko’s fury was nothing beside the Dragon of the West. Iroh lashed out with fire in ways Zuko hadn’t thought possible. The blasts curved mid-attack, and always hit their mark, just shy of actually hitting Azula. The Princess was quickly backstepping, even defensive at times. Iroh roared, “Go! Get the Avatar out of here!” and for once, Zuko did not question him for an instant.

He sent a final blast above Azula to prevent her from flipping up and away from his uncle’s attacks, and turned away. Toph had met Katara, and the two were supporting Aang’s limp body between them. The Dai Li had yet to free themselves from the ice, so the group made a dash for the tunnel where Kuei and Bosco stood dumbstruck. Zuko grabbed the King by the shoulder of his rich silk robes, and shook him to attention. “We have to go! Now!”

Kuei shuddered, staring at Aang’s lifeless form. He was muttering something, but Zuko couldn’t hear it and didn’t have time to stop and decipher his lips. He pulled the man around and shoved him down the tunnel. Zuko thanked the Spirits that the bear followed along without complaint. The clatter of battle in the cavern behind them was loud enough to be audible now. There must be Dai Li free now. They would take Iroh again soon. Zuko gritted his teeth and pressed forward.

The Firebender led the way, dragging the King and clearing the path for Katara and Toph to bear Aang’s body through the tunnel. Finally, there was an opening to a new cavern, and Toph directed them to the right. Zuko found the next passageway and started moving again. There wasn’t time to stop. The Dai Li would be searching for them now.

They took two more turns, and finally, the path ahead of them emerged into fading evening sunlight. Zuko dragged the King out onto the grass, and tossed him out of the way of the girls. He reached into the pocket of his shirt, for the familiar lump of wood he had forgotten that he carried everywhere. The bison whistle. Aang had given him this when they separated after the North Pole, and he had never used it. Would it still work? It could have been damaged since then. But if Destiny wanted them to survive, this would work. He put the whistle to his lips and blew.

In half a minute, Zuko heard Nini’s groan, and thanked his lucky stars. The bison landed on the grass, and nosed at Aang. When the Airbender did not respond, she moaned and pushed harder.

“I know, girl,” Zuko tried to soothe her, “but we have to go. We are going to help him all we can.” He motioned for Katara and Toph to get Aang in the saddle, and then lifted and shoved Kuei in the same direction. The ringing in his ears was finally fading back to normal, and he could hear marching steps echoing out from the cave entrance. When everyone was on, Zuko climbed up to sit on Nini’s neck, gingerly took the reins that Aang had once held so confidently, and said “Yip yip!”


	44. The Awakening

Zuko directed Nini back to the one place he knew friendly faces would be: Chameleon Bay. The Warriors of the Southern Water Tribe would still be nearby, even a day later. That was the next step. He didn’t want to think much farther ahead than that. He could hear Katara sobbing quietly behind him, and King Kuei mumbling, “The Earth Kingdom has fallen…”

What he wanted to hear was a breath, a shuddering breath or a steady one, a shallow breath or a deep one, but a breath. Anything. Nini crossed the Outer Wall in silence. Katara pulled a small vial of water from her shirt, and tried to heal Aang. Zuko heard a shuddering, shallow breath. So there was that. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and returned his attention to the task at hand.

They reached the bay and tracked upriver, finally finding the Water Tribe fleet in combat with a lone Fire Navy vessel. Zuko brought them up against the far side of the ship, relying on Nini’s silent Airbending to get them there unnoticed. Nini hovered above the water, and Zuko took his chance. He leapt across the small gapto the deck of the metal hulk of a ship, and assessed the situation in a flash of battle instinct. Dozens of Fire Navy soldiers stood at the ready, facing the onslaught of blue-clad warriors who had boarded. Both sides stood at an impasse, unwilling to fire the first shot against what might be a worthy adversary. What was the next step? Zuko needed the Warriors, and the Warriors needed the ship.

He planted his feet and began sending deadly darts of fire at the backs of the soldiers’ heads while they were distracted. Each one hit home, either directly through the skull, or just past the base of the helmet if the soldier was wearing it. Bodies dropped like so many flies. Zuko had thought it would be harder to not care. There was no time to care. They were hunted. It was necessary.

The stunned looks from the Water Tribe Warriors were equal parts surprise and fear. To them, Zuko had appeared to be a young boy, sixteen now for sure, sending sparks from his fingers to fell their adversaries. From in their midst, Hakoda stepped forward, with a look of worry. “I know you,” he said in that deep voice that gave Zuko chills. “You were with the Avatar when you picked up Sokka. What’s happened?”

Zuko’s eyes must have shown his despair. “We need help,” he started, and didn’t have to continue.

Hakoda nodded, and started issuing orders. A few of his trusted Warriors stayed on the ship, Zuko recognized Bato as one of the ones who stayed, and the rest disembarked back to their hide-hulled cutters. Those that remained began stripping the bodies of armor and tossing them overboard, trusting the giant serpent of this river to devour the evidence. When that was well in motion, Hakoda waved for Zuko to lead the way back to Nini and the waiting group of escapees.

The Firebender felt his own fear and grief welling up in his chest when he saw Katara’s tear-streaked face. It wasn’t time for that yet. He pushed it back down. Hakoda and Bato stepped over onto Nini’s saddle and helped the siblings lift Aang’s fragile form gently onto the ship. The Airbender’s shallow breathing was at least more steady now, and the bleeding had subsided. The stain would have to be scrubbed from the leather of Nini’s saddle. Zuko filed that thought away for another time.

With everyone off her, Nini settled onto the deck of the ship, and Aang was taken into one of the cabins. The man was in bad shape. When they peeled back his charred shirt to get Katara’s healing water closer to the wound, both of the siblings gasped. The network of white, shiny, puffy scars across the well-muscled body was interrupted by a starburst lightning wound in the center of his back. Too near his heart, Zuko thought to himself. The tattoo was broken. Did that mean anything for an Airbender? For an Avatar?

Toph stared with clouded eyes. She couldn’t see the scars, Zuko knew, but she could feel the pulse, and the breathing. The Firebender tapped his friend on the shoulder, and requested, “Come get me if he gets better. Or worse,” he added, and her mouth set in a grim line. She knew exactly how bad it was, maybe better than the rest of them.

Zuko just stared grimly for another moment at the evidence of this great warrior’s past. Hakoda was likewise mute, and a glance at his face said he was tracing the lines with as much awe and deference as Zuko was. Katara began sobbing again, but kept her hands moving. This was what she could do. Zuko knew she would be feeling the drive to act, just as he was, and Hakoda had when the chief had barked orders to his men on deck. This was where she was needed. The rest of them would have to push forward, and trust in her abilities.

Zuko left the cabin, and the family of Warriors, to watch over the Avatar. Back on the deck, carefully skirting around the bustling crew, was King Kuei, pacing and worrying, stroking Bosco’s fur like a worry stone. There was nothing this weak man could do here. They needed warriors on par with the Avatar, to protect the Avatar from what was coming for him. If they were lucky, the Fire Nation would assume he was dead. But when had Zuko ever been lucky? “Earth King, we are going to be on the move and under threat for some time. Do you wish to accompany us?” The Firebender kept his words stiff and formal, but his tone was less than subservient.

The King looked out at the young Firebender with pleading eyes. “Is the Avatar dead?” he wailed.

Zuko took a breath and forced his determination to continue. “He is breathing better. What do you want to do? We can’t afford an idle body right now.”

After a short argument, mainly Kuei spouting more and more ridiculous worries and Zuko insisting he get to the point, the King and Bosco were allowed to disembark to the bank of the river, and the two departed, to wander in anonymity until they had a better purpose. Zuko sighed, and lamented the absence of the sun. It would return, in the morning. Until then, there was work to be done.

It took all night to wash the blood from the deck without a Waterbender, since Katara was in the cabin trying to stabilize Aang’s condition. After that, Zuko sorted through the armor they had pulled from the bodies of the soldiers, and set each piece out in groups. Next, he took full, clean sets to each of the Water Tribe warriors, and helped them fit it over their blue clothes so the colors were hidden beneath the metal. Now they looked like a proper warship. They just might make it through into open, unoccupied water. The sun was rising. When was the last time he’d slept? He couldn’t stop now.

Sokka and Hakoda had decided on a course of action, and a route to take. The eclipse was still going to happen. It had been a good opportunity before, but now with the Avatar down for the count, it might be their only chance to take out the Fire Lord without rivers of blood. They could follow this river, cross the Serpent’s Pass, and make a left turn at the other end of the lake to head toward the Fire Nation. The warship and the armor might get them there unscathed, but it would certainly get them there quicker. The sun began to rise, and Zuko instructed a Warrior on how to steer the coal-powered ship toward the darker horizon.

What was next? Hakoda’s men had inventoried their food, water, weapons, fuel, and passengers, now including the children but not the Avatar. A shout drew all eyes upward, and Zuko knew what was next.

The Warriors flew into action, donning helmets and taking positions as a true Fire Navy vessel came alongside. Hakoda stood tall and proud at the railing, the picture of a commanding officer. Zuko ducked into the hold. His face would be recognized, helmet or no. The Water Tribe chief was facing away, but the other commander was facing Zuko, and he wasn’t mumbling. “Hail, Captain… Why are you going this direction?... Under whose orders?... Very well, then, carry on.” Zuko heaved a sigh of relief, and resolved to drill the old Warrior on Fire Nation modes of address, and common names, as soon as possible.

The vessel pulled away, and the false soldiers relaxed their stances. Zuko would have to drill them all in proper posture and movements, too. He added it to the list. For now, he retreated down the hallway to the room where they had left Aang and Katara.

The heavy door creaked as he carefully swung it open. He found Katara slumped against the side of the bed, asleep. She had worked herself to exhaustion. Zuko padded over to her and gently shook her shoulder. “Katara? You need to sleep.”

She raised bleary eyes to meet his, and mumbled, “But someone’s gotta be here if he wakes…”

Zuko pulled her to her feet. “I will be here. Go rest.” He led her to the door, and gently pushed her down the hall toward more empty rooms. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and trod slowly away. The Waterbender could take her pick for now; they would eventually decide on arrangements that suited everyone.

The Firebender returned to the room, shut the door, and took a seat on the bare metal floor on the wall opposite the bed. He stared at Aang, lying comatose on the thin mattress, facedown and bare-skinned, all the scars of his past revealed. Zuko started to count them, but lost track when a clump of them overlapped. The smell of singed flesh still clung to the room.

“You were supposed to be invincible,” he said, to the unresponsive body of his friend. “You’re the Avatar. No one can stand against you. What happened?!” Aang didn’t move. “You promised you’d return with me, remember? Destiny wasn’t going to let you die until you’d done what you had to. Well, there’s plenty that we need you for, so get up!”

Still nothing but steady, shallow breathing from the body on the bed. “At least you’re breathing,” Zuko sighed, hanging his head. “I can’t do… I mean, Katara is healing you, as best she can. Sokka is planning out our next course with his dad.” Zuko shuddered a little at the memory of the chief’s deep voice. “Toph has really brought out her Beifong knowledge and gotten our supplies organized, and me…”

He remembered crimson armor laying in heaps on the metal deck, blood running off the sides into the river. “I killed a dozen of my countrymen.” His voice shook shamefully, but now that he was talking, it was like a flood pouring down a mountain river, threatening to tear out it’s banks. “It was the only choice I had, right? I couldn’t see any other way. There wasn’t time…” He looked up from his hands to see - nothing. Still nothing. “You would have known if there was another way. You would have had other options. What can I do without you? I’m supposed to be responsible for these people.” He took a breath worthy of the shell of his friend before him, and leaned his head back against the wall. “Those people had families. They’ll never know what happened to them…”

He shut his eyes and tried not to cry. It wasn’t dignified. Then again, he was alone in this room, wasn’t he? He could almost hear Ozai’s derisive chuckle, telling him he was weak, incapable of ruling. How could he be expected to strike fear into his enemies and respect into his subordinates if he wasn’t willing to kill a few people?

But Iroh would have called that nonsense. “Any man can become overwhelmed. When there is nothing left to do but more emotion to feel, we cry. There is no shame in that.” Aang would have agreed wholeheartedly. But the Airbender wasn’t here either. In one fell swoop, both of the people Zuko could have turned to were taken from him.

He must have fallen asleep there, against the cold metal wall. The screech of the heavy door brought him back to awareness. A heavy hand and a low grumbled “Zuko,” brought his mind screaming to attention. Rise and fight, Prince Zuko! This had to be a fragment of a nightmare, clinging to him. His eyes snapped open. Crimson armor, long dark hair, regal features, commanding eyes. It didn’t much matter that they were blue eyes, they were the same.

Hakoda pulled his hand back like he’d been struck, and the calm command in his expression turned to caution. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s me.” He took a step back and crouched to eye level. “You’re safe. I’m not who you think I am.”

Zuko’s heart pounded in his chest as he pieced together what was happening. Not Ozai, not captive. His hands shook, and he crossed his arms to bury them. The armor pinched in all the familiar places. Zuko cringed at what Hakoda must think of him. “I’m not weak.”

“Of course you’re not,” said the Water Tribe chief. “What would make me think that?” He sat in the middle of the floor, back to Aang’s comatose body, but he was on the left and Zuko had to turn his head to use his good eye. “I’ve known many fierce Warriors who had reactions like this to things other people thought were trivial. It is never without a reason,” he explained, keeping his voice soft and hugh, gentle. “It’s a perfectly normal response to war, and it saddens me that a kid like you would have seen enough to experience it. It takes an incredibly strong man to continue fighting enemies when you also have to fight your own mind.” The chief let the silence settle in, and let Zuko’s heart slow, before he continued. “I came to get your help at the helm. None of us is quite sure what all the levers and knobs do.” He looked a little apprehensively at the Firebender. “You do know what they do, don’t you.”

It wasn’t a question. Hakoda’s first sight of Zuko had been on Nini’s back, beside Aang. His second had been Zuko wiping out the crew. “I know my way around this kind of ship,” he admitted, and the older man’s apprehension showed through just a little stronger. He sighed, “I’ll be up to help in a few minutes.” At the very least, that was the next thing that needed to be done. He held one hand out in front of him, and was glad the shaking was subsiding.

“I’ll tell Bato to expect you.” Hakoda stood and stepped carefully to the door, keeping his distance.

Zuko sighed. The chief had every right to be cautious of Firebenders. Like anyone else on this ship now. And they’d all seen him Firebend. Aang, what am I supposed to do?

He had stopped shaking entirely by the time he reached the bridge. This wasn’t his ship, not even the same class as the one he had lived on for three years, but it was the same design. There were moor rooms, more guns, more engines, but they were all in the same places. He crossed the threshold with a clang of sharp shoes on metal, and said “How can I help?”

He could hardly miss the massive burn scar covering the Warrior’s torso and left arm. Last he’d seen, the man had been bandaged, but this level of damage was hard to recover from. He was lucky to be alive. Bato turned to stare at Zuko, face awash with caution and uncertainty. “Are you still the young man I met, who could be trusted to make the right call when it was needed?”

“I sure hope so,” the Firebender muttered. He put his hands comfortably behind his back and stepped up to the helm. “What do you want to know?”

It turns out, Bato wanted to know how to control the throttle, to speed up and slow down more precisely. Zuko spent quite a bit of time going over all the controls, how to use them, what they did when certain other levers were in the right positions, and any other question Bato could ask. It was the least he could do for the Warrior.

After that, Zuko asked Bato to recommend a couple of people to learn their way around the engine room. He found his new recruits and showed them to their posts, instructing them on the basics of machine maintenance, coal generators, and knowing when the coal dust and furnace heat had taken too high a toll for the day.

After that, he drilled Hakoda and the Warriors on deck how to stand and march in formation like Fire Nation soldiers, so they wouldn’t be stopped as easily by the next true ship they passed. The joints of his armor were beginning to rub blisters where he used to have calluses. None of the warriors complained.

After that, the crew spotted two figures on the bank, and Zuko recognized The Duke and Pipsqueak from Jet’s posse. Zuko voted against stopping to pick them up. The last thing they needed was more inexperienced kids to watch over. And besides, there was no armor small enough for The Duke. He wasn’t sure they’d want to board a ship with Zuko on it anyway. It was more than enough to convince Hakoda.

After everyone had been given their daily rations that afternoon, Zuko headed again for Aang’s cabin. Like yesterday, he found Katara, exhausted and asleep on the floor, with her head leaning on the bed. The room didn’t smell so much like cooked meat anymore. Aang’s wound looked less like a festering sore and more like a regular burn. His breathing was deeper and more rhythmic. He still hadn’t moved an inch from where Zuko had seen him last.

“Katara…” Zuko stepped up behind the Waterbender and gently took her shoulders. She grumbled like a question, and turned exhausted blue eyes up at him. “You’ve been here all day. Go get some rest.”

She turned back to Aang and pulled water from her pouches. “I can’t rest; he’s not better yet.” She stood forward on wobbly knees and the water began to glow faintly. “I have to do something,” she muttered. “This is all I can do.”

The realization hit him like a ray of morning sun. She felt just as lost and useless as he did. The words were the same ones he had been beating himself with for days. He knelt beside her and set a hand on her arm. “You have done so much. I can see the difference already.” He pulled her away from her unresponsive patient, and tried to be like Iroh. He pulled her into a hug. “You can’t do your best if you are hurting yourself, too. You need rest. I promise I’ll come get you when I need to sleep.”

For a few seconds, Katara stared at Aang from within the comforting arms, and Zuko thought she might refuse. Then, finally, she sighed and rested her weary head on his shoulder. “He would have said the same thing…” With a sigh, she rose, and he let her go. “I don’t care if it’s ten minutes from now, come get me, okay?”

The order sounded weak and shaky through her exhaustion, but Zuko smiled and nodded. “I promise.” She stepped out of the room and shut the creaky door, leaving Zuko alone again, surrounded by the sound of Aang’s breathing, and the certainty that the Avatar would not wake.

That night, the ship crossed through the Serpent’s Pass. Bato’s voice came over the ship’s speakers to tell everyone they would be entering into enemy-controlled waters, and to stay alert. “The goal is to slip through without being made,” the metallic instructions repeated, “so don’t engage unless absolutely necessary. Our resident Firebender has given us all the tools we need to remain undetected, so thank him the next time you see him.” Zuko was glad to stay holed up in Aang’s cabin for a few hours.

He didn’t want to sleep. Besides the fact that he promised Katara, his dreams had been full of vague shapes and threatening feelings lately. Nothing he could remember when he woke, and nothing that woke him screaming like in Ba Sing Se or before that on his own ship. But nothing he wanted to dive into if he could help it.

So he meditated, using a flickering flame in his palm instead of the candles he was used to on Fire Navy ships. It was easier to control that way. He knew he was blocking out his emotions. They weren’t helpful right now, and the flood of guilt was almost crippling if he didn’t fight to push it away. But doing this was keeping him from helping people around him. He had to open himself up again.

It would mean getting past this. The image that had plagued him every time he closed his eyes. The feeling that if anyone else had been in a position to make that choice, they would have chosen differently. He took a deep breath in, and the flame in his palms grew brighter, glowing red behind his eyelids. Red like blood.

He’d seen blood before. He’d seen destruction, he’d seen pain, he’d even seen a field of the dead, thanks to Iroh dragging him out to the edge of the Southern Air Temple. But he’d never been responsible for it. How did his uncle ever smile? What had he done to be able to look and sound so peaceful, after everything he’d had to do during the War? Uncle, what do I do?

Zuko focused on the little flame in his hands, flaring and receding as he inhaled and exhaled. The sun was gone for the day, and all the energy to maintain the flickering fire came from within him. What should I do? The flames were a part of him, breathing with him, living because he desired it.

The decision had been made. It was the only one he had been able to make. There was no time to find another option, if in fact there had been another option available. He could only do the best he knew how. If he learned better later, he could do better next time.

He was still responsible for the people he had killed. He would be for as long as his flame burned. There was no escaping it. So what was next? Just putting it behind him wasn’t possible, and he didn’t think he would if it was. He had to find a way to reckon with it. Maybe find the names of the soldiers assigned to this ship, and give their families something… something.

For that, he had to be Fire Lord. The War had hurt so many people, and spread so much hate and fear. It had to end. Ozai wouldn’t do it. Azula would keep pushing until everything was crimson and gold. It had to be Zuko. Not because Destiny decreed it, but because it was the right thing to do. The flame in his palms blazed, and the energy around him swirled with purpose.

He took a deep breath, feeling the energy flow into his lungs, amplify in his stomach, flow to his muscles, and out into the candle flame. What his body didn’t need was then sent back to his lungs when he exhaled. He could feel it swirling through the air in the room, combining with the warmth and light around him. And, for some of it, swirling together with a shining force of energy farther away in the room.

Zuko’s eyes snapped open. In place of the shining mass of energy, he found Aang’s prone body, lying facedown on the bed. The Firebender stood, carefully, closing his eyes to see the flow of energy again, the spark of the Avatar’s Firebending flowing through him. What is this?

With eyes open, Zuko could still feel the flow. He let his candle flame dissipate, and knelt beside Aang. The energy in his body was in his control, but what about the energy in Aang’s? He barely dared to hope.

There was a block, right where the lightning had struck. Energy flowed into Aang’s lungs, but stopped at his scar. Zuko held a hand out over the raw wound, feeling the flow, and the break. Could he move the energy past it? Would that help in some way? There was no way to tell. All he could do was try.

On some instinct, Zuko brought his arms over Aang’s spine, moving smoothly like a wave. He breathed in, and felt the energy move. He directed it where he wanted it, pulling the bright, blazing energy down to the lightning wound, and through the block down into the rest of Aang’s body.

The Airbender twitched, then gasped, and convulsed. Zuko jumped back out of the way to avoid the flailing arms. Gray eyes were open, finally, but distant, pained. Aang gasped with every movement, and his wound began to bleed under the stress. He was in too much pain. Zuko had woken the man too early, into a world flooded by unimaginable agony.

“Help! Someone get Katara!”


	45. The Headband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now Back from an Unexpected Break!

The ship’s engine growled, steadily pushing them through the river toward the sea that finally lay on the pre-dawn horizon. The first island in the Fire Nation archipelago was half a day’s sailing past the shore, but instead of excitement, Zuko only felt a growing weight of apprehension on his heart. He was going home, but not in a way he’d ever imagined.

Aang hadn’t left his bed yet, though he had been awake now for two weeks. According to Katara, they were all very lucky it took Zuko as long as it had to drag the Airbender back to consciousness. The lightning wound had only just healed enough that the movement didn’t tear his back wide open and send him back into shock. Zuko hadn’t been able to bring himself to go back in the room since.

But now, they were on the verge of being behind enemy lines, on a course for the Great Gates of Azulon, and they needed the Avatar. The rogue Prince would just have to hope Aang might eventually forgive him. With a sigh of resignation, he turned away from the last vista of the Earth Kingdom and clanked stiffly toward the ship’s barracks.

He’d heard from Katara, Sokka, Toph, Hakoda, and even Bato these last two weeks that Aang was doing well: steadily improving both in the physical condition of his wound, and in his energy and mobility. Zuko felt responsible for the fact that it had taken this long. Katara usually glared daggers at him for the first few minutes after a healing session. As he approached the heavy metal door, all he could hear was his heartbeat racing in his ears, and the long-passed echo of the constrained gasps of pain Aang had made. He hadn’t screamed. Zuko wasn’t sure what would have been worse.

The door stood open, and from inside, Zuko could begin to hear Sokka discussing plans for an Eclipse-day invasion. The Firebender had heard it all before - sending word to allies to meet them on the coast, using the ship’s plentiful bunks to gather and transport everyone to the Fire Nation capital. Sokka had even floated the idea of getting the Mechanist involved to help counter some of the man’s own designs in the Fire Nation tanks and machines. “If anyone knows what weak points those metal monsters have, it’s the guy who designed them,” he pleaded his case to whoever else was in the room.

A hoarse, raspy voice answered, “That’s a good idea, Sokka.” Zuko froze in the hallway, and tried to understand his misgivings. “Do you think you all could do it without me?”

“Wh-what? No, of course we can’t!” cried Katara. “Where else would you be?!”

A creak of the mattress moving was accompanied by a groan, and the raspy voice that could only be Aang explained, “I can’t stay on this ship. I can’t get better if I have a shock every time I wake up. I’ve only been slowing down my healing by staying here.”

Zuko felt like a snake had wrapped around his heart and squeezed. Aang wanted to leave. The ship was a stark reminder of his pain, the pain Zuko had caused. Well, he’d been alone before; he could do it again if he had to. This time he had a ship, and a crew, and a goal. The rebel Prince turned on his heel to go.

“Zuko, is that you?” Aang’s raspy voice stopped him. Did the Avatar want to fight him? To get revenge? To berate and chastise him? To cast him out? “Could you come in so I can see you?”

He didn’t sound particularly angry, but Zuko was still on edge. He turned back to face the door and took the few remaining steps to stand on the threshold. He kept his head down and his shoulders slack. There would be repercussions, and he deserved all of them.

Without looking up, Zuko heard a deep sigh, the creak of the mattress, and a careful step, and Aang’s strong, wiry arms wrapped around his shoulders and refused to let go. How could the ancient Avatar be this strong? How could he be this not angry? “But-” stammered the Firebender, “but I hurt you! Why…?”

Aang squeezed tighter for just a moment, then released the Firebender and crouched just a bit to be at eye level with him. “First, because you didn’t know, and it wasn’t your fault.” Zuko started to object, but the Airbender held up a finger to stop him. “Second, because I have been awake to help with planning, strategizing, and making decisions. You have not been alone, not even once since you woke me.” The look in his gray eyes was fierce and steady, like a sheer cliff face that would withstand the crashing force of the ocean waves against it. “And third,” he spoke deliberately, drowning out some of the raspiness from his throat, “because I was completely cut off from every lower chakra. I would not have been able to bend, and I don’t know if I would have even been able to stand. Every bit of pain is worth not living the rest of my life in obscurity while children do my fighting for me.”

Zuko looked up into the familiar gray eyes, framed now by short, gray hair that hid the majority of the man’s tattooed head. He searched the Airbender’s face and found nothing but sincerity and gratitude. Gratitude! How was this his perspective?! Zuko had been struggling to plan a path to the Fire Nation throne without the Avatar’s help for two weeks, and here was the Avatar, ready and willing to keep helping.

Aang ruffled Zuko’s dark hair, long enough to tickle his ears now, and chuckled. “I am not so weak that a little pain would make me turn against a friend.” He straightened up and stepped back, sitting carefully on the edge of the mattress with a sigh. “I was telling Sokka and Katara that I think I will heal faster if I am away from this ship.”

The gut punch of guilt hit Zuko again, but this time it was shrouded in confusion. “If it’s not because of me, why do you want to leave?” He couldn’t help but remember the mistrustful eyes in Ba Sing Se, the uncertainty Toph had shown when they had first met, the vitriol of the little boy named Lee who had turned on him the second it became clear Zuko might be dangerous.

But Aang’s stubborn optimism shone like the sun. “I have far worse memories than that aboard Fire Nation warships,” he chuckled. How could he laugh about that? He was still smiling, for fuck’s sake! “If I get out of this metal box, back under the open skies, I think it will be easier to sleep.” He leaned back against the wall with a wistful sigh, careful to rest on his shoulders and not his wound, and Zuko had no doubt that the man really missed the feel of being exposed to the air. When the Firebender’s own heart soared and his mind raced with new energy and enthusiasm, marking the sun’s emergence for the morning, he thought he might understand.

Sokka and Katara were still reeling. The Warrior and the Waterbender traded glances filled with shock and dismay, and Katara countered, “You can’t heal your own back. We have to come with you.”

Aang’s eyes fixed on her and grew dark. “Katara, I’m not bringing you and your brother into the wilds of the Fire Nation with no one to protect you while I’m recovering.”

Zuko knew what the next thing was. “That’s why I’m coming, too.” His declaration was met with surprise all around. “Plus, I doubt we could keep Toph on the ship once she realizes her reading teacher is leaving. Besides,” he added as the idea struck him, “when was the last time you were in the Fire Nation without being hunted? You’re going to need a guide.” When the Airbender seemed ready to argue, Zuko cut him off and insisted, “Are you prepared to fight Toph about it? I might go easy on you, but she won’t.”

Aang looked from Zuko’s fiery determined eyes, to Katara’s worried steadfast ones, to Sokka’s steady insistent ones. “I suppose I should have expected this,” he mumbled, and shook his head with a smile. “Since I can’t convince any of you to stay here where it’s safe, I’ll just have to focus on getting better as fast as I can.”

He pushed himself away from the wall and again up to his feet. Katara and Sokka rushed forward to help, and Zuko reached out to stop him, but he waved them all away. He planted his feet close under him, flat and straight like an Earthbender, with relaxed grace like a Waterbender, pulled his back straight and shoulders out like a Firebender, and smiled with his eyes the way only the Airbender could. The man’s full height was almost too much for the low ceiling of the metal barracks. “Well?” he said, power returning to his voice. “Let’s get going.”

When Aang emerged on deck for the first time, flanked by the kids, Hakoda’s eyes grew wide. “Avatar Aang!” he called, rushing to the doorway to help, only for Aang to again wave away the assistance.

“Really, Hakoda, my friend,” he sighed in exasperation, “I’ve been in worse shape than this before. Catch me up on where we are.” He stumbled slightly as a wave rocked the deck, and winced.

Zuko saw Hakoda’s side-eye, clearly dubious. “With all due respect, I don’t think that’s true,” the Warrior said softly, then stood tall and gave his report. “We have passed the shore, and will turn South as soon as we are in deep enough waters. A message will be sent North to this Mechanist, and other allies will be contacted as we sail near each one. I expect we can turn West again within four weeks.”

Aang nodded and paced slowly forward. “Good. Be sure that you do,” he instructed, leaning on the railing of the deck for support. “It will take a week or more to reach the capital city, and you must be there on time.”

“Why does it sound like you won’t be with us?” the Chief pried, glancing at his children but quickly locking his nervous gaze back on the Avatar. But facing the Airbender’s peaceful smile, face turned upward to the bright dawn sky, eyes closed against the wind and sea spray, he didn’t have to wait for an answer. “Because you won’t be, will you?”

Aang’s eyes opened slowly, and stayed distant, but his voice was content. “No, I won’t. I need to be back in the open air again,” he breathed, and the Warrior Chief nodded solemnly.

It was barely mid-morning by the time everything was packed onto Nini’s saddle, like the old days. And as much as Zuko could sympathize with Hakoda’s forlorn expression as his children stowed their packs on the Flying Bison’s back, he couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. He was going to be flying again, beside the Avatar, on their way into the Fire Nation. It was exactly what he’d wanted for the last three and a half years. But now, with Nini’s soft rumbling breath beneath his feet and the prospect of correcting his family’s mistakes ahead of him, the sunrise seemed to shine all the brighter.

Aang lifted nothing but himself, Airbending his way up to sit on Nini’s neck and taking the reins like Katara would take a loving look at the ocean, or like Sokka would take a familiar whetstone to the bladed edge of his boomerang. It was where the Airbender belonged, and where he looked the most at peace. Zuko grabbed the last bag, leaving Aang’s glider staff behind for safekeeping, and clambered up the furry wall to the saddle.

Everything that needed to be said already had. Aang turned a hopeful smile to Hakoda and the remaining Water Tribe Warriors on the deck, and called, “We’ll see you on the shore of the barrier island.” He waved, and Nini pumped her tail, and they rose from the deck of the ship that had hidden and sheltered them.

Zuko watched the ground fall away, and saw Hakoda wave slowly back, before Katara summoned a cloud to conceal them from prying Fire Nation eyes. Her misty cover was dense enough that the cool morning sunlight turned gray and cold, and a haze blurred everything just enough that Zuko’s already-blurry left eye could not make out Toph’s features on the other side of the saddle. He kept his head tipped to keep his good eye on what he wanted to see.

For a while, there would be nothing to see. Zuko knew it would take time, even flying at bison speeds, to reach anything recognisable. He occupied himself by staring off Nini’s right side, looking for a glimpse of ocean waves and listening for the cry of seabirds that might indicate they were closing in on a barrier island. He tapped his fingers on his knee to the beat of his heart.

What was this feeling of dread? He was excited, he knew for sure. His destiny lay ahead of him, and the path was clear. But even while his stomach fluttered at the thought of finally seeing the end of all this, it also flipped and tightened in a vague feeling like something terrible was coming. He took a deep, misty breath and sighed.

Toph cleared her throat and called across the quiet saddle. “So, Sparky, tell us about the Fire Nation.” He turned back to get a better look at her, getting a feel for her reasoning, and decided she was genuinely curious. He would have expected nervousness, or even an attempt to get information on an enemy, but she just stared blankly downward, with her arms wrapped around Sokka’s supporting arm and a look of friendly interest on her face.

“Well,” the rebel Prince started, finger still tapping anxiously against the top of his knee, “I don’t know a whole lot about what it’s like outside the Royal Palace.” He stopped tapping long enough to run his fingers through his hair, and looked away, only to see that Sokka and Katara had each fixed him with gazes full of hunger for information. He pursed his lips and suppressed a grumble. They were doing what they had set out to do, and they weren’t pushing. He could stop talking any time. He shut his eyes, released a heavy sigh, and looked off the edge into the clouds again.

He didn’t know much, but he knew something. What could he say? “The common folk usually farm or fish for food,” he started, quoting some scroll or book he had tried to avoid reading as a kid. “Land-based farming is prevalent, but mostly used for crops instead of livestock. Each island mostly governs itself, and as long as the Magistrates pay their taxes, they are left alone.”

The Firebender shook his head. They didn’t want to know about the Fire Nation economy. “The Royal Family does centralize control of some things, like schooling, military, cargo shipping, road maintenance, stuff like that. I think war manufacturing is too, but not other manufacturing. Mostly things that affect the whole nation. Those are either monitored by personnel from the capitol city, or are housed in the capitol city, and everything about them is relayed to some minister or another.”

They wanted to know about the Fire Lord. “If something comes up that the minister can’t handle themself, it is brought to the Fire Lord for a decision. Most of the Fire Lord’s time is dedicated to considering new ways to make the Nation more powerful and prosperous, but twice a week there are Minister Meetings where issues can be brought up, and once a year petitioners from the general population are allowed to lay themselves before the throne and make requests. Most of those are denied. Sometimes one is granted, or is turned into an idea for the Nation, but that is rare.” Zuko remembered sitting on his cushion below the throne while a magistrate pleaded, head to the floor, tears flowing down his cheeks, for a stay on his taxes. His island had been swallowed by a volcanic eruption. Half his population had been killed, and the other half had been unable to produce their usual goods or make any money. Ozai had turned the man away and ordered a debt collection contingent sent to the island. Had old Azulon ever been that callous? Zuko had been very young when his grandfather had passed, but somehow he doubted it.

Katara was still staring expectantly at him, Sokka was tactfully looking off into the cloud-obscured distance, and Toph had an ear tipped toward him to hear more. What more could Zuko give? What would be helpful? “The weather on average is warm. Sometimes it snows a little in winter, but nothing like all the ice in the Water Tribe. This time of year, it’ll be getting actually kinda hot.” He remembered Summer vacations to Ember Island, and how often the whole family would wear as little as possible to stay cool, or leave windows open overnight to catch the sea breeze. “And it rains all the time, especially in Spring and Summer, so we should keep an eye on the clouds and make sure we are sheltered when the storm starts.”

Then he thought about the journey, and what they would need. Food, and water. Fresh water. “Food will be easy enough to get. There are plenty of poisonous plants, but there are loads of edible ones too if you can recognise them. But water might be an issue.”

Sokka turned to face him with a quizzical expression. “The whole place is surrounded by water. How is water going to be hard to find?”

“It’s not, but fresh water is,” he explained. “You know the dangers of drinking salt water,” he said, and both Water Tribe siblings nodded quickly, but Toph scrunched up her forehead. For her benefit, Zuko summarized, “The salt makes you more thirsty, so you’ll just have to find even more fresh water.” The Earthbender raised her eyebrows and Zuko continued. “Not every island has a spring to rely on for water, and plenty are big enough that a spring would be hard to find. And the water in the streams has all kinds of algae and stuff living in it that can make you sick. The best thing would be to catch rainwater before it touches anything, or boil water before we use it.”

“But Katara’s a Waterbender,” Toph argued. “Couldn’t she bend the water away from the salt?”

Katara’s soft voice chimed in, “No, that’s too fine a distinction for me. Salt dissolves in water, so there’s no particles in it like mud, and nothing to separate out.” She smiled at the younger girl while her arms swirled around her, maintaining the cloud cover. “It would have made life in the South Pole a lot easier.”

Zuko nodded. “The other thing to think about is our clothes,” he mused, waving a hand over his dull green garb, and then toward Toph’s ostentatious emerald silk and the striking blue of Katara’s light skirt. “The only dyes that are easy to come by in the Fire Nation are from pepper plants and a particular species of shellfish, both of which are a dull red. Any villager would make us for foreigners a mile away.” He cringed when he realized he had called himself a foreigner, but that would change. He would be Fire Lord, and he would make things right. “And Aang will need something a little better than long hair and long sleeves to hide his tattoos. Red burn scars are common enough, but blue will be noticed.” He vaguely remembered a common clothing style that included a cloth belt. If they could find one of those laying around, it might make a good headband.

They kept talking, the others asking questions as they came up with them, and Zuko answering as best he could, until Aang snapped the reins and directed Nini downward. The rebel Prince guessed they had finally arrived at the first island. Katara stilled her hands and their cloud cover dissipated, revealing an empty cove with a thin strip of beach and a decent cave that could hide Nini from any and all prying eyes. As the bison touched down on the sand, Zuko took stock of the shape of the beach, the curve of the mountain, and the color of the water. This wasn’t the first island in the archipelago, but it was close. And this one had a small city, and enough people that a few garments wouldn’t be missed.

It was perfect. Too perfect. Aang had flown lind, passed the first of the islands, and brought them to the ideal landing area on an island that suited every one of their needs. How much time had he spent in the Fire Nation before now? Zuko met the Avatar’s eyes, and raised an eyebrow. Aang let a sly smile tug at one corner of his mouth. It didn’t completely hide the unease in those bright gray eyes.


End file.
